wings

wings are beautiful, aren't they? they give you the freedom to play. on the darkest nights, in the moonlight you can fly, sing and dance all night. wings are beautiful, aren't they? even when they take them, making you pay for mistakes you never made showing the bloody blade in your face. wings are beautiful, aren't they? even when you have to stay on the ground even when you are bound to the place, in which you almost drowned. wings are beautiful, aren't they? when you see them framed on someone else's walls while you bleed out, wanting to be freed from all.