I remember lying under pastel skies,
Hand stretched out,
As I wished to fly,
Spread my imaginary wings,
And taste freedom on my tongue,
Innocent, naïve,
My mind free of reality's touch.

A poisonous vine,
Thorns piercing into me,
And I realized that I could never truly be free,
If my own mind was my enemy,
Feeding me thoughts that make me turn away,
From my own reflection,
Broken, tainted,
I let my wings die.

Even though the storm has ended,
And the sky I loved calls for me,
My frenzied mind keeps looking,
For darkness hidden in the purest of smiles,
I was awakened by reality,
And now I drown in my broken dreams,
Knowing that I can never fly.