vetule

boy lying half-dead in a hospital bed
stripped of his wings and his life
crumpled mess of bedsheets and bandages
and broken dreams never to be fulfilled

in his final days, he raged
because of a father’s mission to kill his daughter
and now his lover lies decomposing in a hole
her mind scattered somewhere else completely

little wisps float through the air
ghostly leaves and feathers scattered in the wind
reminders of a time long gone by
of trials and tribulations and a constant, unavoidable watching eye

the ordeal reminds me of a time long gone by
of a person I once knew who brought me poor words
barely comprehensible and running together
like my memories of that boy

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