Three arrows pierce the early morning mist
And the cry of the Great Eagle
echoes into the chasms of time.
Steadfast and alert, though deeply wounded,
its wrath, once an ember, now aflame.
Eyes affixed, focused on the adversary
Talons a grip, tensions arise
The smell of battle sweetly tempting
Springing forth, wings unfolding
The Great Eagle in flight, instantly.
Menacing in the attack, the Great Eagle cries
A wounded king, a majesty in strife
The blood of his subjects fuels his anger
As his talons rip and slash
Then the silence, an eerie silence…
The struggles of adversity ended
His majesty triumphant over his prey
The Great Eagle stares upon the horizon
Crying out in triumph
As it awaits the dawn of a new day.