Why do you have to fall,
Don’t you want,
Like the rest of us,
To keep on flying high,
Travelling to places,
Fallen angels never can,
Are you tired,
Like beautiful stewardess,
Of meaninglessly bouncing around the sky,
Have your fuels burned out,
Like a hot air balloon,
Or is it just gravity,
Breaking you up.

I hear that you were cloud once,
And the sea,
Who did you enjoy being better?
Perhaps none, that’s why
you are always crying?
Or perhaps unlike us who always want
something bygone or something to come,
you are happy even to be falling,
Taking plunge as they say,
Hitting it head down,
Mixing with the sea, mud, river,
Burning to be a cloud again,
Never fantasising nirvana,
Never getting tired of cycles,
Just making a perfect story of your own…

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