The Memory of Wings

My wings were of gossamer feathers,
Like ivory tipped with gold,
Carrying me to the many places
My young eyes wished to behold.
I could fly anywhere I wanted,
The sunlight on my back,
Glinting off my feathers
Until the sky turned black.
I freed all of the innocents
And fought the evils of the world:
There was nothing I couldn’t vanquish
When my wings were unfurled.
There were never any boundaries,
No limit to where I would go,
From vivid forests to the ocean blue,
I soared above the sand, the ice, the snow.
I ran with wolves in the night-time
And was a queen by the day;
Gracing new worlds with my heart
Until my wings carried me away.

I didn’t ever realize it,
Until it was too late:
My wings gradually began to shed
And to slowly fade away.
I suppose I stopped dreaming,
Somehow favouring the ground,
Forgetting the undiscovered places
And the answers I never found.
Each ivory plume faded
Until they were each a sickly grey;
I was left with shadows on my back
And I could no longer fly away.
There was once a time when I was free:
Now I find myself in chains.
A silhouette of what I was
But couldn’t quite sustain.
Each feather that drifted to the ground
Tore the joy from within me,
But I cannot feel my wings anymore—
        There is no scar for me to see.
I am now left with distant glimpses,
Just a ghost-like memory
Of the things I once dreamed of
And who I used to be.