Amidst the golden days of youth,
my eyes would scan the clouds,
constantly searching and constantly waning,
for none other than an aviator.
The ones who would soar sky-high
among the snow-white clouds and bliss.
They had wings to take them to the
highest heights of heaven
to touch perfection and joy.
I always had dreamed
of becoming an aviator,
to be able to pick up my wings and fly.

Years have past since those days,
my youth has long gone.
Years of sorrow and years of pain
stole away my innocence.
My thoughts are tainted,
my soul destroyed.
I always dreamed of becoming an aviator,
just not like this.
I yearn for the days before the
realization of my coming demise.

Here I am now,
my broken wings are ready
to take me away.
I’m ready to be an aviator.
It’s my time to fly away.