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I Am From MAG
I am from a weightless sea
Dormant, floating, ripping by
Above the crowd absorbing me
Congested lungs breathe in the sky
I am from the open air
I am from the silver bird
Carving through the fading ink
Resounding; never heard
I am from the clear crisp winds
The brace beneath the wing
I am from the aspiring climb
To where the eagle sings
I am from the lifting off
From horizons, far as the eye can see
Into the incessant blue escape
Captivating; Free
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Favorite Quote:
Charity is the pure love of Christ.
There were two muffins in an oven. One muffin remarked "It's getting hot in here!" The other muffin exclaimed, "WOAH! A talking muffin!"
"Carving through the fading ink"
Genius line! Love the whole poem.