Crow - 2012/03/04

Wings spreading
Gliding in the sky
Flapping with a fury
Rising to a new high
Crying out of anguish
Echoes heard for miles
By those harboring fear
Or with haphazard smiles

Freedom is on the wind
Propelled by the forces
Of tired ebony harbinger
Who spies our mad courses
Neither warning or whisper
Simply some recognition of
That regardless of outlook
Somebody watches from above

Power bequeathed by fools
Always awaiting any scraps
While launching their alms
To a god up high that flaps
Though we are but mere tools
In vast array of possibility
Derelict crows alone carry on
By any measure of probability

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