The Falcon

the falcon encased in stone,
on the steps of the temple...
silent too long, boils with rage.
and with one final surge,
of unrestrained passion,
breaks free from the pedestal,
with the fury of need!

long wings covered with dust,
unfurling with beauty.
take to the air,
almost gulping with flight.
eyes too long dim,
blaze with raw hunger.
the falcon loosed,
driven for the taste of flesh!

poem by Eric Cockrell
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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