High school, junior year
I walk on the plain after school. Night has touched the air as practice has ended.
The sky is dappled with darkness and light, the time spirits fall and those in hiding rise.
The music of the plain becomes quiet, still of melodies touch. The air becomes cold and filled with whispers of darkness.
No one around I let myself go-
Let my wings spread and touch the cold air
Walking through the pillars in between
I nicked my wings on its edge
But no pain I felt
No scar or anything
For I could not see what they looked like through eyes
I had forgotten how-
But I could feel the muscles pull and stretch
From my back as they spread out
So why could I not see it in reality?
Why could I feel it but not the world?
Was this all a Dream?
Then why did it feel true?
I wish to see them again
But now I'm lost-
If you feel, but cannot see
Is it true?
Or false?
YOU ARE READING
The views of a changeling
RandomI was always one for an imagination. It was so powerful, it clouds all memories of reality, revealing only the past that brought me to the immersions of it, instead of reality. Over time my mind has fought between these two, the life in reality and...
