Flying Upwards

Flying upwards to the sky,
Is it like this just to die?
What I was, who they say,
that lets my soul flay.
Endless spiraling, circling up and up,
As swirling in a stirred tea cup.
Forever and beyond, no later than a day,
If only to let myself lay.

Flying upwards to the sky,
Only to return down too high.
Time an never existence of a minute,
With only seconds to fill it.
Who I am, what they say,
that lets my heart be broke as it may.
Going end to only  up and skyward,
Following the  stars of the heaven´s herd.

Flying upwards to the sky,
To be reborn and die again, by and by.
Entering only to exit to enter yet again,
Of being only women and men.
How I am, when they say,
That lets my spirit free as sunrays.
For even as a soul, a spirit, a mind to be,
I can only be to believe.

Flying upwards to the sky,
Reaching  stars, far and by.
Does it matter not of my self,
If I sometimes place myself on the shelf?
I guessing not though sometimes I´d think otherwise,
If only to know the one´s demise.

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