It's scary really,
How we get so used to our bindings and fetters,
And let our dreams and hopes shrivel up inside

Do our chains become part of us,
Our weaknesses and faults making up a bigger slice of our ego than we dare admit

Soar, fly? With all this dead weight of past failures, social constructs,and responsibilities?

Sometimes I think I begin to think I understand wad the old one meant when she said God allows our dreams to die before fulfilling them
There's no way we could with what we are, with so much dead flesh still alive

I've asked so many times why I'm still here, when I want so much to out and leave,
Could the metaphysical really intersect with the unpleasant and the mundane?
Could the kingdom come in the midst of all this?

Jesus asked Saint Peter "do you love me?"
His reply was in effect, only as a friend

Im beginning to realize how much I identify with that,
And I'm a lousy friend at that