The chains are gone,

My wings are free,

Soaring high,

Above my misery.

A bird born,

Learning how to fly.

Tumble, tumble,

Down from the sky.

Freedom gained isn’t freedom done.

To truly be free we have to ground ourselves,

Then carefully peel away,

Learn how to run and jump and walk and fly,

Let it become second nature without knowing why.

Figure out when to fly,

And when to walk,

When to pull down,

Or to go up.