The unicorn rose again, to fly on his milky white wings. ‘Birds of prey’ carpeted his way as he floated through the knighted sky. The stars he wondered looked brighter that he had ever seen them. Each dot marked its own territory on the black charred vacant sky. He felt a new life running through his veins. He flew again after a long and trying hide inside.
He spread his wings wide and beyond,
The first flutter, again, intoxicating, accelerating,
He touched life that night, he touched love,
The life within burnt like a knight’s final burst to survive,
He wanted to fly, yet reserved about the pleasures,
He believed love had buried itself and departed,
To his surprise, it never was, it never would.
