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