I’ve just turned into a human:Craving mastery over that-That translucent,Crumbled parchment,Pallid bodily air.And I wonder what my feet do,‘Coz I am meant to fly,O! I’m volatile,just volatile, aren’t I? I’ve turned into a questionOne I ask myself a day,Shutting myself to the darkness-Bleak,Melancholy darkness.Yet, I wish to see the light,Fall upon that lie,But, am I…