
A poem about the insignificance and the paradoxical impact of man, compared to the flight of the bluebird.
Rated: Fiction K - English - Poetry - Words: 121 - Reviews: 2 - Favs: 1 - Published: 12-01-12 - Status: Complete - id: 3079186
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Through ashen skies the bluebird flies,
Through broken promises and hateful cries,
On, on the bluebird flies.
Through mirky airs the bluebird flit,
Through lands unconquered,
History unwrit.
On, on the bluebird flies.
Followed by lies,
Stalked by broken ties.
On, on the bluebird flies.
Borne by hope,
Carried by fate,
On, on the bluebird flies.
Under watchful scrutiny
Of the dead man's eyes.
On, on the bluebird flies.
Where to knows he not,
Wherefore he cannot say.
Through the chill of night,
And the warmth of day.
For whose right is it?
To reason with debate.
Whose lot is it?
To speak of fate?
Man is fickle,
But he is constant.
Message or herald?
Word or tongue?
Who can say why?
Yet on, on the bluebird flies.
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