Wings

Outstretched arms. I spread my wings so I can soar.

Levitating as high as I can and then a little more.

I fly blind through the clear skies because in God I trust.

No idea did I have that my blue sky was going to be filled with smoke and dust.

How does such a vulture use my wings for death.

Now my world is a choir of canaries who sing of death.

They can’t talk. They can’t breathe. They can run. They can’t leave.

Yet they understand a power of death as they ascend a tower of death.

Which way do I float. Which direction do I choose?

Which poison do I use? Its like I have nothing to lose.

If my wings hit the ground I’ll just lie here. Tears I’ll cry here.

Help me now dear lord. I don’t wanna die here.

The enemy fights hard, but my spirit fights harder.

Feathers on a bird flock together and my wings are my armor.

Sometimes in September they let the Tuesday blues sing.

I believe and declare they won’t forget my wings.

~Dedicated to the memory of everyone who perished on September 11th 2001.