At night, deep in the arms of Morpheus
I dream once more of seagulls and the sea
I dream that I might soar, victorious
My dream a metaphor for being free.
I dream my arms are wings of purest white
that stretch to feel the currents of the air
I soar, a paragon of purest flight,
a physical embodiment of prayer.
A prayer I make for every waking day
I spend imprisoned in this broken shell.
I pray for angels to take me away
My broken body my personal hell.
I dream once more of seagulls and the sea
A dream, a metaphor for being free