Oh to touch the winds of flight high up, and
soar where eagles fly
To leave the woes of trouble souls on earth
behind me far below.
...
In Children memories fluttering outside the glass is blood
by beating weapons. Life can hurt, questioning what we want to be.
Put forbidden swirling as we grasp at what we could be.
When darkness falls, night sky is blustering I fear, for my dreams
...