| Nighttime falls soon. The hot sun fades behind the orange and pink clouds. From this heighth the people look like ants scurrying around in their lives. That which supports me and keeps me aloft is but man made, and will someday fail. My time up here near the clouds shall end soon. It must end of my making or I shall be like Icarus. One who tried so hard to sail on his own wings, when he should have found an angel to help him. There are limits that we face. As one we may only reach so far, but two as one can touch the heavens. So hurry up angel and find me. Find me and we shall fly, and test the limits of this earth. |