We Were Meant to Fly

Sometimes, you have to set aside broken things and start fresh; break the chains and take flight. Words I speak more to myself than anyone else. They come not from the pipes that won't play or behind the dreamer's gaze, but from the heart; screamed so loudly, I think they'll burst from my chest. You spoke this language once, used words like fear and uncertainly, misery and suffocation, gut wrenching times to be sure, but we just weren't ready.

Now, my aim is true. My path is set, and so I step lighter these days, while you weep in dark corners; not for fear of heights or the irony of bad timing. Free spirits are meant to fly, but the ties that bind, really do bind. Like iron shackles anchoring you to the shore line; the tides roll in and slowly you drown, in a sea of misery. All I can say, is I'm sorry, as I soar overhead. Freedom is life's first happiness, enhanced only by love.