The Cons of Flying


And now I have flown.
Yes I have flown.
But I should have known that such a remarkable bliss as flying could never last.
I had spread my wings to the light and it filled me.
Oh did it fill me.
So much happiness.
Yes I should have known it couldn’t last.
For soon that light became too much for me to take,
burning, burning,
searing light.
It scorched me from the inside.
A heavenly fire
destroying all of me.
Each of my beautiful, shimmering feathers fell. One by one,
ablaze as they drifted down into the void below.
Soon only bloody, blackened stubs on my back were left.
Then it was my time to fall,
still on fire,
down to that never ending blackness.
A part of me knows that my feathers will grow back,
in time, even grander than before.
I shall fly again.
But another fears that day,
for I will always have to burn;
fall again when the light grows too much.
Too, too much for such a small human as me to take.

Poem Rating:
Click To Rate This Poem!

Continue Rating Poems


Share This Poem