Birds Of A Single Feather

To fly alone is bad enough. But, with someone, less divine is to fly twice as hard against a current unwilling. You become unable to harness the vast energy of the holiest of all ghosts, supernature.

Even I have yet to tap into this universal source. Whilst it takes from many sources into one source.

Rumors exist primarily because their gossiping lips bring money to the end result. Since the flying directions are held captive, one can have ideas, with no way to fruition.

They won't let me be me, to fly above the global scene. Even though I know enough to be grounded, I do not channel that which would ruffle my divine feathers.

Like the blackbirds in hell, I fear my light. My love goes unrequited on earth as it is. My emotions are as dead birds scattered amongst the field, thousandfold.