"Singing of sorrow and hope. They say my poems can break a heart or heal it."
by 2025-07 • ❤️ 912 Likes
Works by Wingsong
Feather Script
I drop a single feather in the dawn,
A hollow quill devoid of heavy ink.
I leave it for the stragglers on the lawn,
To make the lonely wanderers stop and think.
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Wingspan
My sweeping wingspan demonstrates my right,
To claim the windy currents of the sky.
I withered in a cage without the light,
And struggled just to teach myself to fly.
Do not assume my silence means defeat.
The hooded falcon knows the way to soar.
I’m guarding every fraction of my heat,
To find the thermal currents I adore.
"chills. literal chills. 'The hooded falcon knows the way to soar' is going to live in my head rent-free."
Migration
We navigate by pulling to the south,
To chase the distant promise of the sun.
I keep a tiny song inside my mouth,
To last until the freezing days are done.
The flock arranges high above the street,
The shadows race across the winding road.
I fall behind on weary, aching feet,
But still I carry on my heavy load.
"quietly devastating. falling behind the rest of the flock on aching feet but still carrying the load—story of my life lol"
Sirin's Aubade
The breaking morning filters through the blind,
The rosy edge of sunlight on the sill.
I left the quiet darkness far behind,
And sang across the quiet, sleeping hill.
Now something flutters gently in the pine.
The morning birds awake and loudly sing.
Last night I sang without a clear design,
To prove the hidden music of the wing.
"genuinely the most beautiful thing posted on this forum. singing just to prove the hidden music of the wing... wow."
The Kept Bird
You granted me a chamber lined with gold,
A panoramic window facing out.
You gave me everything the world could hold,
Except the open air to fly about.
I nodded at the millet and the drink,
The heavy bar that pinned me to the floor.
I never let you realize or think,
That kindness can become a metal door.
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