It's strange, having a kinship to the boy who flew too far.
There's a shared desire. The urge to fall. To be magnificent even at your end. It feels beautiful.
It screams of pain, glorious, gorgeous pain.
We fight to fall first. We fight to be beautiful. It's an unworthy, unphill battle.
In our songs we are depicted as wings on fire. Falling, falling, falling.
But is it falling if you feel like flying? Is it falling if that's your plan?
To fly would be a dream come true. To fall is my greatest wish.
Everyday is another step towards a life we can only imagine experiencing.
And we fall. We fall like Icarus.
But maybe we fly?