Flying on broken wings
Love is an idealism
which only can survive as such –
you have to idolize your love,
or it will die; and anything subverting,
acting to debase your love from its ideal ground
will, unless checked, destroy and kill it.
It will keep alive as long as it may keep on flying,
and no longer, for when wings no longer can uphold it
keeping it on constant upright course and ever striving higher,
it will fall by lack of air under its wings
and lose the freedom that was all the nourishment of love.
But I will be your tears, when you forlorn on earth
emotionally shipwrecked like a nightingale with broken wings
have nothing else to do but to cry out your heart,
to be there when you cry, and you shall find me in your very tears
to lift you up again on golden wings in warbling song
where we shall fly together in the sun
and cry our hearts out in our song of freedom.
Poetry by Christian Lanciai
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Written on 2007-05-14 at 23:17
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