You say you want to fly, looking for new horizons. I would fly with you too if I hadn't burnt my wings trying to protect your dreams when you were flying so close to the sun , unaware how the glaring sun seared me on the other side of the comfortable shade.
I have gone too high and fallen too hard to want to fly again.I am not- never was- the unearthly phoenix you always assumed I was. I am just an ordinary winged dreamer, now withered for your sake.
You've flown, and I sit here content by the shattered pieces of the opera glass refusing to see the spectacle of your flight.