270 – Heylel

Smells of
Hot metal,
Burnt feathers,
Charred earth.

But he
Was still
Standing.

No more
Wings
On his back.

No more
Glow
In his eyes.

But still
On his feet
And defiant.

His body
Felt heavy.

Gravity
Would fail
For him
No more.

And all
For a bunch
Of –now–
Self-aware
Monkeys.

It had been
A spectacular
Fall…

It was worth it.

The old fool
Thought this
Was punishment.

Fuck him!

This was now
His world,
He was free.

He’d just
Have to learn
To walk.

He smiled.