My true country is the sky
The setting Sol my flag
Neighbors birds and clouds
I hitchhike lightning to descend to land
The people there detest my hand
I despise my work
Never wished to be an angel
Especially the last one they see
Curious
They work so hard to see more of me
I reached the wrong place at the right time
Great powers pulled me from the bliss of forgetting
Prevented my full death
Made dying my work
I want to go to the stars
Yet they are so far
Still I think my hated task
May soon end
All of it end;
Perhaps before me