-1I am the wings of fallen angles
all conceptual to destroy
While swinging feathers everywhere
as If I were a toy

But the last shackle dangles
still stuck on wrist and bone
Always clinging to the ivory
never allowed to venture home

But steady days are sulking
and nights are trying hard
but no one is yet waking
from the cold winter starve

So in the urge to fly
I'm broken to a sew
there is nothing I can say
There is nothing I can do

I am the dreamer's weaver
I am the captain's soul
but what I have to say
the world will never know