Untitled #1

It is the morning  of the day, 

The nights, they have flown away,

Scurried down the alleys,

Letting the sun-light draw its way,

The walkers were awakenings,

Walking their morning walks,

I saw her sleeping,
In the distance of my eye,  

Drawing the curtains to a close,

Breathing deep, in a bee dream,

Busy eyes, flickering in her sleep,

Eyes that have seen the world,

Eyes that have traveled its people, 

Traveled, where I have never been.

She’s like a baby, holding her mind,

Inside the angel, that is her inner side,

She sees a road long, outstretched ,

Above and below,

Binding her hands,  closing in slow,

The ropes are tightening,

She struggles to fight free,

The sun is rising,

It’s fighting with the tree,

The ropes are tightening,

I fight to set her free,

I find the scissors, 

The blades are blunt, 

there is a fading,

In the  strength of my arms   

As I fight to set her free,

Free her from her mind,

Free from her bee filled mind, 

Free from the last song,

Whose words she left behind,

Free from the daylight, free from the night,

Free from the morning sunlight, binding her tight,

I see the ropes are gripping,

I fight to set her free,

I see a glimmer,

I fight to see,

I see fear,

I fight to see, still,

I fight to see the ropes,

I see the ropes are me,

I fight no more,

I finally see, 

Only She can set her free.