iambic

I’m running down the sidewalk hot from sun.
The tiny islands pool the cool green grass.
Now scatter, creature, change your current view,
and know I only want to see you fly,
because it’s what I think that you do best.
If not, then by all means you must pursue.
Please tell me what it is that makes you free
so maybe it might shed some light on me,
but let me have my fun as I move past.
I promise not to crush what dreams you seek,
forever may they live inside us all.

Here we see a fallen angel,
bitter of its chosen birth,
submissively seduced by evil,
patterned product of this earth.
In this life of worldly pleasure-
power always, failure never-
ever-present mortal terror,
doomed to live in fear forever.