Beaten feathers

They are sputtering to rise

feathers of lead

struggling to fly

stifled scream but yet more bites

never letting go

of the struggle with life

much of it is lost

still more to gain

life’s myraid colours

can be heaven or hell

battered on the stone

fine, I lost my weight

should I despair?

Or feel free to fly

Eyes of the beholder..

The deciding master

Let your thought go wild

Is your steed free?…

Or the reins are tight??

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