Leaves flap violently in the gusts of wind.
A man from the kingdom below shuts his door
as the angry storm above wages on,
for, even in the seemingly peaceful sky, there is war.
Dark clouds paint the world black and gray
as once mighty birds struggle against their own sky.
The realm they once owned as kings
has been stripped away by the previously shy.
The avian emperors, who once commanded a kingdom
where the citizens flew free
and looked down upon the land with no greed,
are fighting the very thing that once was just breeze.
Helpless and weak are they
as the enemy brings down their spears so bright.
And all the conquered kings can do is flee,
for what is the point of fight when you are trying to vanquish dark and light?
The sparrow is not enough
as the falcon flies on.
The eagle fights hard,
but the clouds are much more strong.
The avian emperors remember when
they would dance with one another.
Synchronized with the wind
as the sky was a long-lost brother.
The helpless pheasants know now
that they will forever fight the other.
Slashed with betrayal
as the hidden sibling will forever rain down its thunder.
And this thunder, it shook
the very beings of stripped freedom.
The crack in the sky slithered its way down
to destroy this kingdom.
And so it did,
as their true king was struck.
The mighty harpy fell to the dreadful earth
where he is still stuck.
See his feathers strewn across the dirt,
the dirt he will one day be.
He will be stepped on and forgotten.
Never known as the epitome of free.
And what of his people?
The bodies upon the ground are that of his kin.
The once mighty, avian emperors who ruled the seas of wind,
are now replaced by the leaves that flap violently in the gusts of wind.