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 un-notice
any sight,
during its flight
Even from a mile aside.

Eagle, full of stance.
The pride forbid,
to renounce to any might
With courage and grace it fly
Spreading its wings in sky.

Deploy current to soar to greater heights,
With such confidence and might.
Never a storm ceases its flight
No “once” depress its life;
That slays the royal eagle from any feathers in sight.

“Predation is a two edged sword”
They say.
But it’s an alluring lie
In the eyes of the mighty eagle;
I say.

The pure savage,
gets no whiff of scavenge.
It defy,
To bleed the prey,
to slay.

Nazma Mahir

An accidental poet


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