On Wings of a Falcon

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic

Just a little poem about what it'd like to be a falcon

Soaring on the backs of birds soaring high

What would I do if I could no longer fly?

Sunlight glimmers off the back of my glossy wings

The falcons are the true Sky Kings

I screech, and then dive down towards the ground,

The wind echoes my scream blocking out all sound

Watching everything grow bigger as I swoop down

I wisely avoid the chaos of this little town

“Bam!” and a tiny pellet shrieks past

I do a quick loop, then another one fast

I let go a load, without bother to take aim

I hightail it out of there, knowing my ‘bomb’ will surprise, not maim

I beeline towards the woods, trying to hide

Letting the currents take me on a ride

I spread my wings and land

I look around as I stand

I hop across the ground, then take off again,

Making sure to evade the gun-toting men

I look below, and see a rat scurrying by

I chuckle, as it desperately tries to get away, knowing it will soon die

I rotate in midair then plummet towards the earth

It tries to scamper away, running for all it’s worth

I feel a sense of exhilaration as I can feel my talons dig into its skin

It desperately continues to struggle to win

Blood starts trickling from its fur

I look it straight into its eyes, they look smoky and start to blur

Once again, I ascend to my previous height

The landscape below is a beautiful sight

I alight on a branch in the woods and proceed to devour my meal instead

I hook my razor-sharp beak around its head

I have little difficulty pulling it off, and then let it slide down my throat

I then continue to munch on its bloodstained coat

Then I drop its tail to the floor below,

Startling an innocent little baby doe

I rustle my feathers then bow my skull

I will take a nap, finally feeling full

Submitted: April 07, 2012

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