She sings with her eyes,
but not with her heart.
She speaks of what she yearns,
but not of how she feels.
She says what others desire,
but not of who she really is.
She acts as though
she's someone else
but really,
she isn't.
She's scared of herself.
She's surrounded by Reality's
shadow,
hovering over her
like a cloud of thunder.
Rumbling and fuming around her
and not letting her pass.
Her wings are broken,
her hope is struggling to remain,
and her hands grasp
the final strand of determination.
Pulling her out of the dungeon
of torture,
and lust.
Her wings begin to heal
and expand before her,
showing her who she is
and who she could be.
Her crystalline tears dry,
and she feels free.
Her heart takes off like wings.