Blessed Wings

Soar high into the sky.

Hold still fat sun
And let me fly
For now I'll know
Or not I die

And up above
In cruel blessed thought
Does hang my fate within a drop
And still I know not where or naught
And how or high or haught I've brought

For in the folds of burning rage
A gaze does match my own but sage

A pain it grants as all would melt
For heaven now does stay its shelt
Not open but bathed in burn
Surrounding what I do most yearn

It leaves me hanging on the by and by
And soon I know I will not fly
But make haste for I not long this state
And instead resign to be my fate