A/N: Written for the Death Note Flash Bingo on the For Death Writers Forum (link's in my profile), #009 – wings.
Wasted Wings
Wings were supposed to taste with them the scent of freedom
but only in the living world; his wings still flew, straight and true
but the sky was a smog-filled mesh and the horizon a bore.
There was nothing in their world to make flight worth the pain
when one could walk – or why walk? He could sit and stare
at a more lively world, that world responsible for his long life…
so why couldn't it give him some fulfilment as well?
Why indeed?
Why can't I go there?
Yeah, I'll go.
Why not?