The Eagle's Gift

A being of ill-decree, there, thoughts of loves, lost to betrayal. Taking remembrance, a dove nestles amongst some branches. The love and glory of thine own, embarked upon the mystery entrances. As vigor pursuits of fulfillment ensue, let redemption entrail. The mischievous bard, did let on, a curious, chance of labor. For the sorrows of valor's past so subtley mistaken. A faint glimmer in his eyes, suddenly gave way to a slight interest, o'er God, forsaken. Let the perils of failures of our past. Blessed. . . not find, traitor. Twilight settled upon the lonely desert setting, of rugged palms and mystic wallow. With a whimsical embrace to surety and the galliance of the setting sun's bravado. A plan of divine right. An expression of knowledge shared, our El Dorado. As the bard's spirit did chime of righteous victory. Yes, victory was sure to follow. For vises of sweet mysterious tidings, due to his own accord. The mistress gypsy, there spied swaying, as the Eagles rose and soared.