Break Through The Night
Published in
Dec 16, 2017
In the dead of the night,
I soared aimlessly.
No shining armour or knight
could be seen in sight.
But I drifted away.
Strong winds tossing me around,
jostling me, bringing me down.
Reminded me of friends I met on the ground,
and the bag of Aeolus they carried.
But I held on tight.
With only the sorrowful moon hung above,
to watch my every move.
I contemplated about the shove,
which still brought me to the edge.
I glided away.
In the wee of the morning,
I cut the woes clung tight to me.
And watched as Icarus started burning,
and heavens conspired his overthrow.
I flew straight ahead.
This is a response to Imagà Imaginings prompt by Michael Stalcup:
