The Waking Dream,

Life is such a fickle thing, ever changing and shifting as we are carried upon the down of feathered wings. How often I am greeted with a reminder of mortality's bitter cry only to see the beauty that nearly passed me by. Happiness, pain, all things time will rend as we step carefully through the maze of sins, and even now as I look ahead at the path made clear I fear the others will soon be here. Another left turn fallowed by a right or two as I seek refuge from those whos fun leaves me broken and abused. Footsteps now drawing near, closing the gap and still no end in sight to spare me an attack. Clip-clop the strongest grows near only to grasp feathers as I look back with a sneer, a brilliant light and a flutter of wings carry me out of reach and into the protection...only morning can bring.