Of Flight Rent Fiery

To fly
And burn the trail
Yet to fly
Leaving the flesh that is frail
And to cry
And to try
Burning the trail

Reaching the sky
And the star
Up, above and high

Lake ran dry...

Flames that won't die...

May just passing by
Might be here to stay
Could be delusion and lie
Let it be
Come what may

Asunder in within
Abundance in mending
The night then the day
The end then the beginning

Meant to fly
Icarus...Soaring the sky...



Sent from my BlackBerry®.

Posted by Posted by Ariff Abdullah , on at 19:00 • Labels: L, poem, poet