When is a matter of who, and who is why.
Given wings, take, things not to forsake.
With them fall and crash, lose all to the ash.
Fire is ire, something inspired, the wood your livelihood, no longer a would, but should.
Water is of love, not anger the danger, a dove, the daughter of love, Spread your wings and fly.
But fly to high, fall and crash, lose all to the ash. |
Submission Name: Icarian WIngs
