Cannot Fly
know you this..
There are things that can not fly
in the soul of Athena's eye,
and one of those things, is I.
Your passions form a true concern
you ache for everything you yearn
to give you everything and more
is more than I'd be hoping for,
I'm no hero born to love,
just a down and broken dove
who in its travels stopped to find
a quiet place where passion shined
a sturdy branch, a rest defined
a perch within your lonesome pine
to sing of things which haunt its mind,
to sing of how Athena beams
and how her strength will win her dreams,
with warm and gentle Esha's eyes
to light her heart, a glowing prize,
and how her life is precious, sweet,
and oh so difficult to meet,
a dove can fly with open wings
to sit upon the shoulder of
the soul who offers love,
but what of this unworldly man
who sent the dove a distant land
to whisper how he yearns to love
a dear Athena as a dove?
But not a dove, this woman, she
is not a dreamer meant to be
with any poor pathetic wings
that such a thing in sorrow brings,
"Whom shall fly to whom?" It sings,
And this is not a lover born
not a knight of gallant form
but only just a man who failed
to get the things of which he wailed,
My bank's an empty avenue
I have little I can give
I stretch the work I do
into the fuel I need to live,
and what a creature be this dove
who wears his heart of hopeless love
as any wears a glove upon a sleeve,
to sleep and wake in grief
of a life without relief
for all things it would believe,
It trills a mournful call
for it's just a mist of wings
that weakly floats and weakly sings
until no longer flying, it must fall.
COPYRIGHT2011ACB
Copyright © Athena Beauchamp | Year Posted 2014
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