Why, when we are so high up,
Do we feel that there is no chaos?
Why, when we are down below,
Do we feel that we are at a loss?
The sea, in its color, scent, and sounds,
Holds a danger unknown to all
The sky is light, birds, and angels
But does this not mean that they, too, fall?
Do they not find themselves confined to the gravity?
No, their wings do not break,
But do the winged ones not feel their hearts sinking
At one horrible mistake?
Swim through the depths of icy water,
At this the creatures of the deep never falter
Those with wings may continue to fly
Up into their judgment,
Their dangerous sky
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