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Poem

The Gulls’ cries shrill in the night
Onto my thoughts they impose
I envy their wings and their melancholy songs
Carried over the ill wind that blows

I am here grounded to my faults and I watch 
 Imagining where I would fly had I wings 
Maybe I would hover over my homeland
Maybe it’s the same song I would sing

The endless sea of black calls them
As the gulls frantically fly overhead 
I listen silently to the crashing of the waves
And wonder if I am alive or if I am dead

They cry out to me as if they are mocking me
As if my thoughts are commonplace and trite
I look away from them for a moment
And know that all is lost again tonight

Soon my flight will take place
And I am sure to soar up to the sun
I will scorch my wings trying
And I will surely come undone

New beginnings sometimes call for violent ends
And I might be wrong for wishing them true
But the exhausting day has not given me the sails
This trip to finally construe 

The cobwebs are still here tonight 
And the wine clouds my mind
Here I stay in my prison
With my borders very well defined

The sky looks untouchable 
As do the majestic mountains ahead
In my sight the treacherous road
Which never has been tread

The gulls’ cries beckon me to look up again
The moon is hidden behind the clouds
As is my dream of soaring
In a veil of obscurity I shroud

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