From the waters of the flaming ocean
I saw you plunged down unto it.
Flapping your wings as hard as you can
You struggled going up desperately.
Out from the raging flames of the pit.
You flip, you flap the wings broken and burnt.
As you glide over the crimson horizon
I hurried and followed your path.
And as you are about to reach the peak from afar
You suddenly lost the strength to continue gliding
And fell unto the grounds of the peak overlooking the horizon.
With wings extended over the horizon you fell unto the peak.
Tired, gasping and with hurried breath 
Your wings extended over the horizon as if trying to reach it.
Soon I was gliding into your direction 
Extending my hands unto you and grab you 
As you are about to slide down from the peak 
And into the waters of the fiery ocean 
I tried to help you flap your wings again,
And with energized flips you lifted up and away
I said,,,
Fly my broken winged angel.
Unto the horizon of hope
Unto the horizon of dreams
Where you will be free once more
Free from the exhausting heat
Free from world of weary 
Free from pain
Free at last.


***Note:  I penned this poem last year as an ode to a dear celebrity friend who I have felt has been suffering from anxiety during those times and wanted to reassure him of his still being an angel to his fans and loved ones.

Grunge music was underground by mid 80s under the Sub-pop label, even though Mother Love bone shaped the grunge sound of vidmate.