Feathers white and stunning as her song
Pierce the air with soft, peculiar grace
Her destination is not clear
But felt it is, so very near
She stops just for a moment, no more alone
Solemn, quiet, it is not her home
Ordinary clouds decorate those skies
She cringes at the thought of ordinary guise
Home is not home, this time is not hers
She leaves for that familiar flight
High above to choose a new escape
Better to fly when the unknown is clear in sight
Faster and higher, this time it is real
So close, still far, that second sight of appeal
Merely existing at rest
Her air is powerful in the skies
It is what she dreams of beneath shut eyes
Set apart, detached, that is where she thrives
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