Part 1

I soar through the sky like a feathered wizard on a mission, trying to make sense of this perplexing project. Below, I hear voices in a muddle, stories so muted they could use a volume boost. In the whirlpool of emotions and the puzzle of disorders, tears are falling like leaky faucets and hearts are sinking like lead balloons.

I try to peer into hearts for love and into souls for hope, but land on a tree none the wiser. Analyzing this project seems as futile as asking a squirrel for stock tips.

Part 2

Restlessness has taken over, and my feathers are crawling with metaphorical fleas. I welcome the nocturnal gang who’ve set up camp in...