You

You are inside the sky, or
hell in my soul.
Wrists chains,
hips burning longing.
Wings carry me on your back.
Sometimes stalactites 
weight alongside,
distress at sea lifebuoy.

When the morning comes
a new map
day, the sun
gracious warmth.
In the evening, the Northern Star
shall lead splendor.
At night they could sleep gentle
comfort toy. This feeling of
carry over days.