a fable

A fable I flew high, but it was hot, my wings were tired when spotting a well sat on the rim of the well saw my reflection; yes, I was beautiful, but noticed a dark shadow behind me pushing me into the well and  looking up Evil had gone clawed myself to the top, the Evil sat by the fireside my talons scratched its eyes out Evil ran outside, cooling his dead eyes in falling I'm a silky bird with golden feathers  The evil scream bore man's suffering  Wisdom lost there was a land that had golden sand lemon trees and jubilant grapes A Muslim land? Among them lived a minority known for wisdom  prosperity and respect, with riches, came power Europe was full of new ideas and a call from the minority that had grown rich until calamity blocked progress  The call from this minority was a new demand for the right to go back to the land of golden sand and lemon tree to turn it into their land and to get revenge for the past indignity  So it comes to pass, for now, but since the minority had lost the wisdom of the story is endless  those who have spent years on ship decks know how to keep the balance