The Thing With Feathers

There’s something screaming inside

hidden within walls that it cannot abide -

adrift in darkness, afraid to die.

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It’s stuck in a deep, dark pit

with no cracks to allow light to fit -

adrift in darkness, afraid to quit.
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A ghost of phantom feeling

I once thought attached and healing -

adrift in darkness, afraid of kneeling.
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Do you remember its name?

That emotion that I cannot explain.

I fear it is lost in the darkness, unable to be reclaimed.

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You say it is always nearby

within reach of the big, blue sky,

but I have not seen it pass by

that nameless guide - unable to fly.