Flightless

I cannot fathom all the things I've tried, To at last, find comfort in your presence, to turn the tide, and prove my time well spent, Then toss all disillusioned thoughts aside. Oh strife, oh strife, I pray through days and nights To at last, feel welcomed by your harsh glance, Like birds during spring, we'll sing and we'll dance; Sleep upon support of leaves intertwined. But the branches cracked cruelly from beneath, Swallowed by leafage that fell down in sheets; Deprived of the sunlight we clung onto, And moistened by morning's dense dripping dew. This love was not meant to be, I see it, A bird clipped of wings; confined to it's wit.