Life’s a flight in the Night -
once whence,
then thence
- a perpetual fight…
Frigid is the Night.
Blowing winds bellow,
Birds they bring down like an arrow.
Though their fate be full of contempt,
flight the Birds still attempt.
Frightening, the sight
Frigid, the Night
One winter day,
a Fog of Light was blown so high, it lit up the Sky.
Dusk pierced by Dawn,
it was the End of All,
the Avians‘ downfall.
Frightening, the Night
Frigid, this sight
Though infinite in power, the fog made Them cower.
Into the Ground they dove,
yet for the Sky still strove,
Their stars now but
a dream within
a dream
.
Though,
one summer day,
Night broke through the dark
- and revealed the stars high above.
…in their seat shrouded in Night, They shine ever bright.
A poem about life, tragedy, deception, good, and evil.
In short, about the history of Mankind.
Consider this poem a puzzle to be solved. I seem to have lost the solution somewhere along the way, though.