Wet Wings

Wet Wings

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
no thunder cracks the skies,
no lightning splits what broke in her,
yet still she cannot rise.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
they cling against her spine,
with every word that went unsaid
and all the wasted time.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
no hand had forced them still,
but all she carried, piece by piece,
outweighed her quiet will.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
Of guilt and needful things,
they stole the shape of all her dreams
And pinned her fairy wings.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
the sky may look the same,
wide open as it always was,
yet does not call her name.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
fairy kin fill the air,
the others lift with easy grace
untouched by weight or care.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
a weight she will not show,
and guilt that threads through every choice
refusing to let go.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
she does not trust the air,
for magic answers what is free
and will not find her there.

Wet wings bound beneath a silent storm,
no sudden light appears,
the tether was not tied by hands,
it grew from buried years.

By: Heather Patton / Verdant Butterfly

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A creative space with enchanting stories and poems. I write fantasy, folklore and genre bending prose that can step off the path into comedy, adventure or the unsettling at any moment.
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©2026 Heather Patton · The Verdant Butterfly
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