feathers of progeny

Standard

A feather in its nascence sways wayward
Hidden midair crisis in gentle countryside winds
Suspended to invisible threads of destiny
No tricks as seen in shallow frames
Dig a while, sense a partial thinking robot
A dangerous little flying thing
Moves like a puppet in wild disguise
fakes freedom acrobatics
Some gyrating freefalls
Swirls up in anti-gravity tactis
Inserts some spice, somersault tumbles at length

Are you plucked by forces of hatred?
Or, detached in a sacrifice, a roll down?
Fallen before senescence of your origin. For what?

Frilled out tender white bottom fibrils
Stand out like Einstein hair strands in thought
Mild hay streaks in crisscross, it’s much stressed!
Would it feel good now, in drizzles of relief?
Gone glued, small time dance in flights goes awry
Caged on its own figments for a finale
downfall

Heavy attitudes crackle in travel
crashing down even unheard
buried in unbreathable bogs

I hurried back home
Waiting little eyes’ never would be left alone. Anymore

Blood, Feather & Fate Art Print

Pic Link/Courtesy: http://society6.com/Jinsanity/Blood-Feather–Fate_Print

 

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