A bird flies on the wings of time,
high in the skies above
Feathers strain to maintain their rhyme,
as in vain he fights for his love
But what of the call of the wind's harsh might,
as he is hauled in the thralls of its grip
Pulled away from his goal as day becomes night,
a toll he will pay for this trip
Each second ignites the wind's burning wrath,
as it delights in his sight's blurring vision
In a daze he's pulled sideways off of the path,
his gaze had always envisioned
As his strength declines he refines and amends,
the signs he has been handed
What if the shore he swore to defend,
was the war that was keeping him stranded?
Surrendering his goal he gives over control,
and his whole being is stilled
For infinite possibility lies with a soul,
that flies in the skies of God's Will
