I have drifted above the ceiling
These bright wings hold me up, only when they are open
I am, drifting in a bright daylight sky
while my body waits
for a moment I am not sure will come
I hear my spirit susurrate “make it”
He rattles the bars of my illusions
while my mind clutches at gravity
hands that seek a key
now faced with the battle I clearly made
what tragedy self-imprisonment
“Let go” Howls my free spirit
You only fly with your wings wide open
Trust.
Trust cant be done with a closed fist.