The Pure Savage

On lofty land The pure savage bird Builds its eyries With plenty of benign Dark from the human race The majestic Eagle, Flaps its mighty wings with elegance. Screeching across regions with victory and pride. To meet opportunities to strike Those golden shrill orbs, deny to

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The Feathered Friend

The tethered broken Winged Hawk Perched in my ashen Soul, Tired of being enslaved In the heart of laden.   When the unicorn sings the tune of peace, the feathered friend pretends To have the wings of falcon’s. Flying high with a loud shriek pursing for the summer

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