I plummet towards the green Earth with the speed of sound,
And my cries get absorbed in the air as I am nearing the ground.
The heat is boiling my blood alive, and my wings are failing me.
Is this the very end or is it just another fleeting memory?
Moments ran before my eyes, and they made me walk the wire,
Now my own sentiment will be my death, my own gun for hire.
Too many smiling faces pass through my head in a carousel,
It is too late to call them back, life is drying me like an immortelle.
But I plummet towards the parks and gardens I once loved,
And where I once saw arrows, I now see hundreds of doves.
The hope runs through my veins like birch sap in early spring,
Yet the impact is inescapable, so I grin as I rip off my wings.
-Jackie
The Daily Writing of Jackie Wright 