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An Eagle
Folder:
Bye: Twenty-line-poems
I see an eagle through the window there,
That tastes freedom by tearing the current of air,
It is not looking at the sky for sure,
Since there is hardly anything for it to fly for.
It is the earth alone,
That for food it concentrates on,
Like an expert detective,
It is ever vigilant and active.
At times it places itself on the friendly branches,
Yet it does continue its searches,
For the unfortunate,
Tiny victims and does not have to wait.
With its nails so sharp and good,
It grabs the food,
And flies as far as it can go,
Without letting anyone know.
The foodstuff is perhaps for its own wellbeing after all,
Maybe for the children so that they do not fall,
A victim to death,
Endeavouring to save them with each breath.
