Eventually bringing the curtain down

 

Gravity is evil.
It tugs upon my bones and pulls the dark from my hair.
It snatches away my breath as time slips past.
It drags my dreams downward, anchors my hopes to dust.
My shoulders bend beneath its unseen hands,
and my spine sings the ache of inevitability.

I once danced with the stars,
but gravity clipped my wings with quiet insistence,
reminding me that nothing escapes—not even light.
It whispers in my joints when I rise,
and shouts in my silence when I fall.

But still, I defy.
Each step is rebellion.
Each breath, a protest.
Each lifted chin, a refusal
to be crushed.