20. A thing with feathers.

A painful thought.
Coming to my mind.
Quietly entering.
To strike when I
have my guard down.

A painful thought.
Nesting in my soul.
Destroying my hope.
Killing my faith.
"Hope is a thing with feathers."
Is a phrase I keep repeating.
But I know even Emily can't save me now.

A painful thought.
But truth is.
We can't fly.
And our souls are too dark and cold
to let anything light and living nest.
It's a painful thought.
But it's true.
We aren't meant to fly.