Flew and fly and fluttering by,
a feather lost from a bird up high.
Stalling, falling with a sigh -
the earth a bed in which to die.
Turning and burning lightning strike,
yearning thunder to drown the scream.
Impaled and displayed upon the pike,
the reality of most terrible dream.
Lines in the sand far behind,
slipped from hand none will find.
Flew and fly and fluttering by,
a feather lost from a bird up high.
Stalling, falling with a sigh -
the earth a bed in which to die.
Crashed and dashed upon the stones,
waves of the hand left unreturned.
Washed and bleached exposed the bone,
Far the mind of the unconcerned.
Withered skin thinned from age,
bleeding hands wrung from rage.
Flew and fly and fluttering by,
a feather lost from a bird up high.
Stalling, falling with a sigh -
the earth a bed in which to die.
Creeping and seeping into the dark,
All that was once is left to past.
Torn apart from just the bark,
bitten in two until the last.
Empty and floating across the seas,
Invisible in the drifting breeze.
Flew and fly and fluttering by,
a feather lost from a bird up high.
Stalling, falling with a sigh -
the earth a bed in which to die.
