Across the valley a bird it soars
A blast is heard that starts a war
Riding on their mounts of steel
Swords are drawn marked death and kill
And in the night
The birds they sigh
And from their eyes
Momas they cry
Look there way up high
It is man, he can fly
With fingertips made of fire
Across the sky he sheds his power
And the night
Lights up bright
And from his eyes
Souls they die
For days the war it rages on
Till the last unsheathed sword is gone
And across the battlefield lay still
Those who fought, no longer live
And in the night
The birds again they fly
And still from their eyes
Momas they cry
From the aftermath of war
For not what is but what we are
Still lay still the beating hearts
One soaring bird in the dark.
Copyright 2007 Bill Simmons
AKA BillWilliamStar@aol.com
author: When Cannons Fire & The Kingdom
Bill Simmons
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/soaring-bird/
