The Plan

I suppose that you are made of stealth pilot stuff
You see me as commanding from strong eagle wing
I’ll prove how your heart is stronger for its freefall
You affirm my pain-filled flight has not stolen hope


Healing can’t come
Bit by bit, in scraps
As you think it ought
In this place at least 

Healing won’t flow
Warm and unnoticed
And make the heart red again
In places it’d paled

Healing will rather
Be absent and stealth
Then with lightning speed
Jolt you back into place