Fly with my Fins
The hearts I have broken,
The wealth I have lost,
The mess I have made,
It is like I have been living for 300 years.
Oh! The heart is crying out,
the soul guilty, my mind racing,
hopelessly, knowing amendments won't be granted.
I am the lost son of the lost hope,
Sliding on a sea of complications,
Wishing to fly with my fins, dreaming of clouds
but there are always new clouds above the clouds.
Unsatisfied, I learn to laugh.
I laugh with my fellow fish
who learned to draw breath above the sea,
and who stopped crying under the wetness.
I rejoyce, for I am the son of the wind,
blowing away merily but briefly,
no matter how much I carry on my path
I will one day cease and be lost,
remambered shortly then forgotten forever.
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