They said the sky was freedom wide and blue,
But never spoke of falling through the air.
We built our wings from promises untrue,
Then blamed the wind for not being fair.
A golden cage still sings of open skies,
Its bars reflect the dreams we left behind.
We call it fate to soften our goodbyes,
And name it strength to silence what we mind.
If every lock was forged by trembling hands,
If every wall was built from fear of pain,
Who taught our hearts to beg for safe commands
Instead of dancing naked in the rain?
You are alone and flawed, it's a blessing in disguise.
Cracks in your armor let in truer skies.
The cage was never meant to make you small,
It showed the shape of shadows on the wall.
If you feel broken, scattered in the night,
That fracture is where doubt turns into sight.
Not every wound is something to erase,
Some are the maps that lead you out of this place.
We feared the dark because it had no name,
Yet stars were born precisely from that void.
Perfection is a well-rehearsed shame,
A silent war our younger selves deployed.
To rule a world and still feel incomplete,
To wear a crown that trembles with your breath,
What greater proof that fragile hearts still beat
Than choosing hope while standing next to death?
Open the door.
Let silence in.
Hear the echo of who you've always been.
Lose the crown.
Break the key.
Find the kingdom that begins with "me."
You are alone and flawed, that's how you're meant to be.
Roots grow deeper where no one else can see.
The bird that never leaves the safety of its cage
Will never learn the measure of the stage.
If solitude feels heavier than stone,
Remember — even kings must stand alone.
And every scar the quiet night denies
Is proof you lived beneath unfiltered skies.
(The cage was never your prison.
It was your mirror.)