The soul wishes
It vies for a world of Love, devoid of hatred,
knowing full well that the wish
may not come true.
It wishes because
it's the only thing it knows how to.
And a soul's wish, a soul's voic...
I'm a bird in your arms- all feathers and hollow bones.
My stomach and my heart are not really a mass of tissue and blood and veins.
They're just a bunch of butterflies ready to fly up, up and away.