If I were to try and fly
Would you push first?
If I were to fall
Would you let me go?
If I were to set ablaze all that I knew
Would you sit back and admire the burning orange?
Would you look into the shadows?
Cry out to ebony coloured embers?
Would you see a glimmer of hope?
A glimpse of pride?
A certain becoming
A little golden orb that spun around time and time again
A silent spectator who never quite caught your eye
Tell my story to the young and new
So dust may never gather on my bones
So that the sun may shine many a time
While in an age old vault
A serpent winds itself around tiny vials of salt…
[Cross Posted on Taking The Brim]