Flying
Though moon may hide her fluid face,
and stars in silent sentence trace
the outline of my breath denied,
I’ll wing away on Eagle’s pride.
The gloomy dusk may gather in
eclipsing hues that should have been
a splintered rainbow deep inside
to wing away on Eagle’s pride.
When darkened tides swell at my shore
to drown the flame within my core
while waters rise on every side,
I’ll wing away on Eagle’s pride.
Though calloused hands close in on me
to seal my cell without a key
I’ll lull my heart and I’ll abide-
I’ll wing away on Eagle’s pride.
Copyright © Kris Walters | Year Posted 2010
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