Some wings only cut.

Washed up on a distant shore
robbed of all things from before
wake into a fever dream
broken to buy what’s in store

Look up and see, there’s no star
Not that you could reach that far
Something’s missing at your core
The emptiness now is a door

The more you try to shut yourself
the more the darkness pours outside
until finally pried ajar
the crack spills nothing on the floor

Your eyes survey the barren land
from the sea of sorrows to a sea of sand
A thirst yet threatens to quench your flame
fueled by want for all you forswore

There’s never too late to accept blame
How much can fit in your fragile frame?
Gather your strength of a dry-rotten oar
you’re late for the march to die in a war

No need to be worried or brave
How this fate makes you feel is safe
for life is a lockbox in freefall
about to be crushed on the rocks

You proceed by taking a step back
and you see you from before on the shore
Maybe if you somehow put the dream to sleep
there might be a way to uncrash the ship

You wave as you strafe off the cliff
hoping the other you notices it
As you hit you learn that he didn’t
but maybe someone else did

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