A/N: I wrote this poem but the idea came from my great friend Alex. She wrote it originally and came up with most of the ideas and sent it to me, I simply rearranged them a bit and made them rhyme, only adding to the glory she had already created. The credit for this should go to her, I could never have written such a deep piece without her amazing mind.

In the dim peace of dusk or the breaking of dawn
After sleepness nights, our mind is withdrawn.
Is this clearness we sense a simple dream?
Or the fragile logic of natures scheme?

Is religion fact or a mere foolish lie?
And what do we see when we look to the sky?
When love turns to hatred and beauty despairs
We look to the darkness and see no-one cares.

Where do we go when our time is fulfilled?
Will peace ever come to those who have killed?
If we have sinned or wounded our soul
Can we ever again be considered whole?

Are our questions a grasp at reality,
Or a simple reminder of pending mortality?
Is the flight of the soul too idealised?
Is there something more to be realised?

Perchance the voyage is made of things dear;
The inanimate objects we humans keep near.
We who toil endlessly upon this earth
Is it these things that resemble our worth?

The roar of the sea and the taste of the spray
The coming of snow on a warm summers day.
Those we shall love and cherish forever
With bonds just too strong for deaths scythe to sever.

The flight of the soul is precious to see,
But are we too blind to set it free?