All Wings Tear

Quite a nice place it seems

where whispers beg us to dream.


Different are the sentiments the broken sing

as they fly upon tired and fractured wings.


Their grasp of sober judgement

went where the last vice was spent.


So must be the torment

of a broken soul’s lament.


So the tattered look to the sky

begging for answers why.


Those songs and whispers they heard

struck against their cheek as absurd.


Because pain serves to numb

who you are and what you could become.


It’s time to dream those dreams

the time has come to mend those wings.


Open your ears and hear your child

set aside those toxic things that defile.


Hear the whispers from another’s breath

learn what life is when not seeking death.


You might have to look behind to repair

worn out spots where your wings would tear.


Nothing is new under the sun

all decide where their journey’s begun.


Pain seeps into the veins of all souls

we only can control those things we know.


When we discover why we’re numb

is the start to where the journey is run.


All wings will tear

so we must be constant in their repair.