Give me your hand

Going back and forth from being damned,
Our lifes we had not yet as our own claimed

In an old and worn book
Rest the secrets that we took.
We hope that what we share
Reaches wondrous destinations,
These beautiful creations.

Yellow feathers
Are long in the past.
We want to get out fast,
Out of the cage at last.

We spread our wings, we know how fly,
No longer afraid to die
We knock down the door
Scraping high above the floor

We might fall.
We might fly.
We might… and in hoping we find reason
As to why this is the birds season.