Withered wings of wanting height,
Soon to die for love of flight.
Here to sound the dreaded call,
Here the reaping at the fall.

We hurried here and quickened there,
But lost our calm to unkept hair.
The goals of all so soon let go,
Unraveled in the wanton glow.

The sound of space roars silent here,
The deafening answer to our turned ear.
Narry again comes the dreaded call,
Bittersweet love to lose the fall.

We shouted and cried with all we had,
Trials and tribulations driving mad.
Formidable strength too young to fail,
Sent packing down through winding trail.

The scent of shame soon loses taste,
Now accustomed to our normal waste.
Few echoes left of binding call,
Few echoes left to remember at all.

The golden light dawns yet again,
Past westward reapings troubled then,
The dirt and ash falls to the floor,
Fiery wings take flight once more.