As I plummet from the sky from which I used to soar, my wings cut short from the great length that even my thoughts could not reach are now but memories of their greatness, echoes of what they were.
As the warmth of the place I hold so dear like the warmth of the cabin fire as you sit and bask in its joy slips away, I fall ... not fall but fly down.
Down to you.
As my dreams are no longer strong enough to take flight the image of you is my revelation. The purity of your soul is the gust of air like the embodiment of salvation itself carries me away, back to my place in the sky.
With you as my wings I have no fear, I see the world not for what it is but for what it could be. With you as my wings I can fly higher then my dreams could have taken me, with you as my wings I am whole.
With you as my wings, I know nothing for which to describe my limits ... I am free.
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