Soul’s Cost 

I checked today—
My wings are shattered.
No flights this summer.
I’ve scoured every wing shop,
“No match,” they say.

It’s obvious, isn’t it?
Each soul is singular.
You can’t just swap a wing—
it’s not right.
To claim another,
you’d have to steal a soul.

I’d never take a life.
Well, not a human’s—
ants, maybe.
Do they have souls?
I’ve crushed a few.

If I can’t fly with you this summer,
what will you do?
Will you shut your eyes
and let me fade?
Or will you ache for me?
Your heart’s a locked book.
Maybe I’ve lost my sight,
or this is fate’s design.

I was meant to lose that wing.
Now, a choice:
Steal a soul, take a wing,
and soar with you this winter,
or stay grounded,
forever apart.
What will I choose?
You’ll never know.