Story of A Flightless Bird

October 24, 2011
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Poor little birdy,
still caged in the ribs
of an animal long deceased.
Poking it's head out between
the sun bleached bones,
a solar white;
Blinding.

It had been devoured,
(swallowed whole)
feathers flapping frantically
talons scratching down the sides
damaging the esophagus.
Yet the animal refused to release its captive.
For fear the bird might sing.

The stomach acids
churned wildly,
burning the once beautiful bird,
stripping him of his feathers,
leaving red, open weals
On the exposed skin.

But this bird was clever.
Not so helpless,
Oh so smart.
And by some cunning
(no so appealing means)
The bird managed to slay the beast
from the inside.
Now he had to wait.

The flesh all rotted around him
curddled blood caking the
poor, naked creatures eyes.
So much so he did not see himself,
Or know who he was anymore.

The world turned
with sinister revolutions.
Spinning on an axis of injustice.
As the rotted flesh was washed away
by acid rain
It left the bird to see his first
real gleam of sunlight.
His feathers began to come in
painful, yet reassuring.

The little bird that thought he
outsmarted fate.
Only to be ensnared by
the remnants of a foe.





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