Poem By Mark Adrian Adonay
I saw a bird, a bird of silver wings
Gold are the claws of him, even his beak.
The work of the journey is another thing,
He came and cut the clouds to seek
For the lone wandering nests. He came to steal it.
It's like he gave himself, or he gave
Himself no rest.Of wanting more.
And chose to love seeing more grave
For the sake of his feet. Having is his delight:
And it comes to much more. Desired to fight
To rule all the shores and having a wide
Space of air to fly, and the woods to stay at night.
And having not a plan to hide!
For doing this is where he delight. Holding his words
On so tight: ' We are the power, and should only be
The face of the world '. Oh heard it now!
Again and again, like how the world heard it on
From it's first wave, until the second one.
And now, some and even I; doubted if it might
Not to be happened in the we call: 'The Third Wave'
I saw him, Oh! I saw him in the air,
As it happens now. The air is the witness,
Dimming and grayed,
It seems that this bird will never fade.
He moves from darkness to darkness
Having not a thought of peace. I know we
All saw this modern bird. For the truth is nigh.
I hope your heart would not fly with it...