Flydiving

Again and again
I find myself,
  --as if longing
        for oxygenated air--
reaching out
from my prison shell,
  --serving enough,
        yet unbearably empty and small--
Towards the bird, flying Free ;
For a life-lasting pearl, of elusive
      Perfection;
And (too) High, I flap my wings;
And (too) Deep, I beat my fins;
And for each flap and every beat,
I secretly know
That my fuel is running low; soon
I will go down,
Drown, and
  fall,
Back, to where I always were,
And There, I always will be, until
Death.

~

small
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/97n32v/comment/e49idej

Med adjustment
https://www.reddit.com/r/OCPoetry/comments/97nfi5/comment/e49o35i