scribblemyname: (divergent: ideals)
scribblemyname ([personal profile] scribblemyname) wrote2012-08-07 08:24 am
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Poem: The Wings in Me

When the fires of love ignited and burned,
When I realized all I’d ever learned
Could not compare to the wings in me
When your hand touched mine and set me free…

Then I chose my path anew—
I’d do it all again for you.
I want to run from this spell you weave,
But I’ve forgotten how to leave.

Originally published at Liana Mir. You can comment here or there.

[identity profile] lithiumlaughter.livejournal.com 2012-08-07 02:56 pm (UTC)(link)
The image here of wings -- traditionally associated with freedom (think birds) -- eventually becoming useless in the face of the situation is absolutely wrenching.

The first verse shows off the true power of the wings. The wings and that freedom are shown to be so strong they overwhelm all else. In the second verse, it appears that they're forgotten, for no mention is made of them even in relation to the inability to escape.

I'm then left wondering if the relationship described is a healthy one. Is the narrator sacrificing their wings willingly, out of love? Or have they been tamed to the point where they've forgotten how to use them, seeing as they've "...forgotten how to leave"? Hmm.

[identity profile] lithiumlaughter.livejournal.com 2012-08-07 03:32 pm (UTC)(link)
Call it the English teacher eye. *grins*

Now I may have to saunter over to this fic and have a look-see.