Little bird with broken wings,
why is this which has become of you?
All that is around you sings,
they hold the strength to fight the wind as it blew.
You lay where you started,
your heart is that which they pity.
You have become fainthearted,
you believe yourself safe in your city.
Truth is something which you deny,
your crumpled form will grow weaker.
With your nest holding you so secure,
is this what your aspire to be?
Remove your twigs and sticks,
release the stones.
You will fall, it is inevitable,
but every leap is not without reward.
New bounds are to strengthen,
and the risk will provide.
Your home has torn away th
I'm young, I'm lazy, and I don't get much of anything done at the moment. Despite this, I aspire to create art regularly in the future, and not to mention that of much better quality, and color!