In the maelstrom
of my beating wing
I saw Man and Beasts
bow to a “King”
Tremble in horror
from his approach
Harnessed to
his bloody wheeled coach
Was Man, the child
of mortal clay
Limbs bleeding life leaking away
Riding on the
back of a mountain storm
I flew into a fury,
of a majestic form
Lit by ethereal
fire, my wings ablaze
The Sun eclipsed
by my piercing gaze
Like a falling
star, I charged that “King”
Not caring what
proud Death may bring
I broke the
chains that tethered Man
The beasts were
free, some flew or ran
My voice rumbled
in a raging roar
Set Man free or
it will be perpetual war
The King hissed,
from me there is no escape
I am God, he
turned into his spectral shape
Face my wrath, or
before me cower
His ravenous mouth
open to devour
I fought with
all my strength and power
Wrestled with
him till daybreak hour
Death claimed
his tribute, a solitary flower
Bled into the
heavens in a crimson shower
Max O’Reilly
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