Real, though mythical, eagle hungers
For another fresh flesh meal
She's picked village after village
Clean down to skull and bone
She's traveled over all five oceans
Four more than most eyes have seen
And, hawking predator's helped ensure
Of course, most eyes never would
Running out of neck veins to pillage
Desperate, sure
Yet not for something more to vanquish
That is, than time or life
Both together with do
Like the day she finally got to hover
Over Rasht Sundial
Oh, that massive stomach grumbled
Watching countless footsteps forming
On that scorched ground rumbled..
And so I see eagle's silohette
Hypnotized into moon's appeal
Donning retrofitted helmet
Silohette is getting small
Soaring, screaming
Dreaming of some other place
Where there might be life out there
..might be life still to taste
Or Air To Breathe
I wasn't thinking of Vampire
I wasn't thinking of Vampire Eagles - more of the slitting of the vein in the throat that various hawks enact to kill certain prey - but I would none the less like to nominate Vampire Eagles as a new name for the "Space Force". So much more honest - and visually imaginative. If we're gonna do it, let's at least be poetic about it, right?
Indeed, just in case that earth thing doesn't work out....