Soar (With audio version)
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Featherless wings creak to a crooked stretch,

Then it glides in a melancholic tint through tempest.

It soar in the fray;

just as it indulge the blue sky.

Old bones cling to fading flaps,

It spins through canopies: gorged with frailty,

Whilst it descends like hail;

even then, its will still soars.

A thud! Suddenly its life burns in half.

It scrambles to rekindle the flame, and cease.

Worms in armies plucks its feathers,

that lift and soar into the blue sky.
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A poem by Tonny Wandella