Bound

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Tucked and folded, softly furled
The wings of angels rest
Against the proud and muscled backs
Of those who know their worth
Hidden by mute promises
Unseen by searching eyes
With all the wrench of whispered yes
Surrendered screaming no
Held there in the shadowed night
And pressed upon the day
Wings of marble and of stone
Stretch forth to grip the air
Sweat-washed and fanning passion’s fire
Anchored to the earth
Yearning still to rise once more
Reclaim heaven’s prize
Held fast by human frailty
Bound with love’s own hands

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