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Mother birds at home, Their babies are too young to die Why did their children fly away? Away in metal shells, Forgetting feathers to cushion their fall Cold blooded snakes bearing symbols Stole their baby birds, Ate their innocence, And threw them at their enemies To win ashes left from beauty, beauty slithering beasts cannot obtain The snakes are poisoned Their leader: dead His skin and all that mattered: shed. And now the little birds must be slain By enemies they'd not wished to gain And fly away, they must In their hulking metal shells Carrying as many others Underneath their arms But whom do they choose to carry off? Few they can help, Thousands more; forced to stay, Thousands they wouldn’t have to cry for, Thousands they wouldn’t have to remember in sharp obsidian dreams, Thousands they wouldn’t have to gun their engines And run over, to save they few they could If snakes hadn’t stolen them away Cry no more; Create feathers from metal, Though they may at first cut your fingers Take, If nothing else, Hope from endings, And the strength to fly after falling Mother birds wish for their chicks to live beyond them To a new horizon they born to see They coo in their nests, Shocked and unable to cry out in pain Tithing new mothers and their newborns a wish, To live lives that are long For all are young Who see hope slain And purpose undone
0
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
Mother birds
Mother birds at home, Their babies are too young to die Why did their children fly away? Away in metal shells, Forgetting feathers to cushion their fall Cold blooded snakes bearing symbols Stole their baby birds, Ate their innocence, And threw them at their enemies To win ashes left from beauty, beauty slithering beasts cannot obtain The snakes are poisoned Their leader: dead His skin and all that mattered: shed. And now the little birds must be slain By enemies they'd not wished to gain And fly away, they must In their hulking metal shells Carrying as many others Underneath their arms But whom do they choose to carry off? Few they can help, Thousands more; forced to stay, Thousands they wouldn’t have to cry for, Thousands they wouldn’t have to remember in sharp obsidian dreams, Thousands they wouldn’t have to gun their engines And run over, to save they few they could If snakes hadn’t stolen them away Cry no more; Create feathers from metal, Though they may at first cut your fingers Take, If nothing else, Hope from endings, And the strength to fly after falling Mother birds wish for their chicks to live beyond them To a new horizon they born to see They coo in their nests, Shocked and unable to cry out in pain Tithing new mothers and their newborns a wish, To live lives that are long For all are young Who see hope slain And purpose undone
kahara-jones
Written by
American
Nov 20, 2012
Nov 20, 2012 at 5:36 PM UTC
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