Wounded wings of a bird of prey
Perched atop its nesting place
Flightless fear of the mighty proud
Does not betray its fearsome face.

Savage shrieks sustain from gritty beak
Lest the lowly prey start to suspect
The terror hidden by beady stare
Knows the wingless cannot life protect.

High up on tree top, talons grip tight
But to beseech is not to be a beast
The power owned by the bird of prey
Is to hover aloft its menial feast.

But treebound talons cannot the brute sustain
So tucking pride away it pleads for aid
The asymptotes connect but all too late
Unheard echoes of its last calls fade.

Glassy eyed, this mighty bird it falls
From once its coveted place of rest
That helpless wingless bird of prey
Lies now amidst common prey and pest.