Me and My Muse

Monday, April 16, 2007

Dynamics of the Winged

As day flew for the winged thing
He learnt to fly, and to sting.
The reflections he knew to find, on the ground
Had somehow lost their zing.
It rose to heights, above eternity
Of un-curious endless skies.
Untamed stresses bought todays; yesterday
Tomorrow, or what will be, found no way.




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