Was That My Soul?

She soars high,
Becoming one,
with the heavens above,
Is that my soul,
or is it merely a bird.

I squint to see,
through the orange sun,
yet, all I can see,
is a fleeting hue,
A hue of indigo blending,
with the blue of the skies.

And then, as I watch on,
The blob of red hides,
under the horizon,
The skies descend into darkness.

With a sigh, I turn to go.
And as I enter,
into my own darkness,
as the abyss sucks me in,
I still wonder,
was that my soul,
Or was it merely a bird.

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