I tried writing something to help me connect to my muse again and this happened. I mean, I don't even like Beatles that much, but here's a songfic feat. my crappy writing.
2AM. He was having this strange fever for a week now. It would be a rather pleasant evening if it wasn't for the intense temperature shifts from melting hot to ice cold all the time. He had refused to talk to anyone about the fever. But they might already know about it by his tired voice tone, his intense puffing while talking, no matter how much he tried to mask it.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night,"
But to think about it now, he wasn't only tired of that fever, but of something bigger he couldn't exactly point out and say "I can't stand this shit right here." He didn't know the reason behind his mental tiredness that eventually made his physical body crumble. He was anguished of something he didn't know. And deep into his core, he was afraid of it, because it was slowly eating him from the inside out.
"Take these broken wings and learn to fly."
He got up from his bed and sat himself by the window. The brisk air of a latent new dawn blew some relieve into his old lungs. He looked up to the sky and sighed. The moon was on her way to set down.
"All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise."
His eyes burned from the lack of sleep. His body ached all over. "Look at you." He mumbled to himself with a sad chuckle. "You are all fucked up, Beilschmidt." The man dried his forehead with his heavy arm. "Do fallen angels even deserve mercy before the Lord at all?
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these sunken eyes and learn to see.
All your life,
You were only waiting for the moment to be free."
His will to move on kept chaining his battle-worn soul to the feeble body named Gilbert. Was there anything else left for him to see? Was there anything he needed to pass on?
Did he really need to stay at all?
"Black bird fly, black bird fly.
Into the light of the dark black night."
He stared into the dark blue sky of the night and smiled. Perhaps… It was finally that moment where he had nothing to lose anymore. Perhaps it was all finally over. However, not in a bad way, not wrapped in Sorrow's fragile arms.
"Blackbird singing in the dead of night,
Take these broken wings and learn to fly."
But under the wings of his own Freedom. The Freedom he never tasted while he breathed under the name of Kingdom of Prussia. The wind blew again. There was no fever, no disease. No anguish anchoring his heart to the Earth. No fear caging his ascending self. There was only an intense light.
And he swore he saw black feathers turning white, flying to the gale's will.
"I'm free."
"All your life,
You were only waiting for this moment to arise."
