Blue hearts flitter into caves,

avoiding the things

that shade them.

When heart is its deepest hue,

and fear swaps with truth

and anger loses fuel,

is then the bluest?

So to darkness we tread.

Far away but not dead.

Stepping through the unknown

with no light drawing us in.

Shall we ever return to the cool air of life?

Will our wings flick once more in the warm sun?

One day.