Wings on the inwards

Wings on the inwards

I had to be an angel,

but on carrying into effect

my wings were mounted within

and now I’m fated

to fly inside me only.

Due to the airflows

made by the wings

a lung disease harrows

my yearnings.

I am tired –

along the day

I make forced marches

between „to have...” and „to be...”

and all the night

I am wandering

among nightmares

in eyes with stares,

instead to star dance

in a blue flight

for the world love rite.

Countless times

I tried to escape –

to fly in the sky,

but a sticky

neuron trammel

pulled me down

indefatigable.

A thundering voice from far:

„You, do not try again ...;

the hungry is fastening you on the Earth ...;

you are a human being and

the human beings are

angels with the wings on the inwards.”

In the poem, the hungry is a neuronal one and it is reffering to everything the human being is looking for, including the hungry for blue.