and I…Oh I acquiesce at last.

For  on broken wings,

I hurtle silently toward the ground,

So lost am I, who once was found.

And how insipid have I, in my sorrows become,

for the black mass of tomorrow remains undone.

And I, oh I, shall never see the rising of another sun.

For nothing is left,

Yet all remains,

Everything is different,

But still the same.

So watch carefully now as you spy the April moon,

And observe as it in its darkness goes on its wane.

Then you will see me say my final goodbye,

As I come crashing into realties cold and cruel ground

Because, I…have lost my wings,

And the ability to share the songs of my dreams

for I can no longer fly.

for I am eternally bound.

And I…oh I….

will no longer make a sound.

J. Allen Wilson © 2004