The Flight

December 28, 2011
By Anonymous

I watched a bird,
Fly away.
It's back to the sunset.
Retreating from the day.
To the east it went,
From the west it came.
It's wings were red,
Like a flying flame.
But as it soared
Into the beautiful night,
It began to descend,
From it's skillful flight.
At a second glance,
It was not flying at all
It was dropping straight down,
Into an accelerating fall.
After what seemed ages,
It smashed the ground.
A lifeless corpse,
Without a sound.
I was dumbfounded,
Not believing my eyes.
It's untimely death,
Came as such a surprise.
The night took over,
The bird engulfed by the haze.
But above the fog,
It's essence raised.
It flew higher
Than ever before.
It's spirit lived on,
It's body dead to the core.


The author's comments:
My source of inspiration for writing this piece is just the beauty of nature and the elegance of birds. I felt it was something deep to write about if I included a death and rebirth. I hope people will get the fact that even beautiful things you could love or cherish live on. It could also be interpreted as a matter of self-esteem, being put down by others but rising back up on your knees.

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