What happens when reality strikes
That the mountain peak you climbed crumbles on you?
And you can’t glide no more, feathers plucked
What happens when your flock
No longer call you part of the company?
He has been a conqueror
And they all came near his table
Calling him the sage though he wasn’t grey haired
He has been a failure
A lonesome bird longing
Now he knows it’s the few with you
When you return to your nest
The ones with you when you can’t even dream that count
The magnitude will always hide in their own numbers
When the sky turns out not to be your home
And the feathers you had are scattered on the floor