The Bird of Trauma
The misty sky was a dead silent path for peace.
Oh how terrible! The mighty falcon has fallen because of this evil trace!
Blinded by fate and flustered by others hatred,
The dominant peregrine has no where to find love.
It travels no longer divinely and lovely.
The graceful bird's sight is gone. Its hope is lost.
Its only way to live is by faith, knowing it's going to find peace.
Why, oh why doesn't it give up?
Does he listen to his heart and his wary soul?
Or does he know his path is chosen?
If so, how does he know he has a path?
Has he learned to not look at the now, but the future?
The rest of his mind is focused on the dreary voice ahead.
It calls to him; its tone so corrupt it would tempt every beast and life.
The giant bird looks around. He sees much trauma.
A dead satyr, many sassafras trees lie dead, guarded by doldrums.
He is bewildered by these sights, and for a blunt moment he is blind again.
He tries to escape the dark dimension, but can't win.
The peregrine falls and prepares to join the lifeless doom below him.
Only when the falcon opens his eyes, he feels a warm wind around him.
It wraps around him and he feels refreshed and no longer bitter and angry.
In a few seconds he can only see light.
When he finally could see, the darkness and fog were gone.
The sun was arising and the moon was surrendering her territory.
The mighty falcon was also enriched.
His wings were once again divine, and he continued his graceful flight.
Only one more question aroused in his head.
What was the warm wind? Was it the real mighty guard of the Earth?
By: Peter (Age 11)