Friday, December 4, 2009

12.04.09 | Envy of the Fowl

Oh how I envy them, those wingèd creatures! How they flaunt their fair plumage in my face extravagantly, how they taunt my extra heavy limbs. Must they treat my poor soul so? If my heart were still here beating in this gaping cavity within my chest, it would jump out to them and ride away on their wings, only to be lost again.
So where had my heart gone? It vanished with my passion for magic, all my hope for a better life than this one. Ironically, a spell was conjured upon my heart, and it dissolved in false glory.
Ah, the freedom of the fowl—how I crave it, want it for myself! I stare, green-eyed, imagining their wings on my own back, lifting me higher and higher into the heavens, away from this cruel, harsh reality. But I soon drop back into the real world as a flurry of feathers is shoved underneath my nose to remind me of the futility and helplessness of my human body.

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