JazzberryBlue

How heavy it feels to be made of light.

I want to lay down and cry,

but they expect me to fight. 

I am learning how to walk,

but remember how to fly.

Tonight is made of mud 
and the moon is a flood.

I covered my ears when the lighting struck, 
but the thunder was only a dove.

Are these flowers upside down?

Or have i really lost my ground?

Such confusion i do find amusing,

because it is all just illusion...

Though maybe my lover was right,

maybe i died that night.

Swept away 
by those things i could not push away.

Though i pushed and I pushed 
with all my might...

I am only made of light.