Adopted Mother of MIne
Her tired wings swayed into the blue,
Where the feathers wither away
As their presences serves to remind
All her tears and regrets she had made.
My devotion spreads wide like an open field
While she contininously soars high
To the clouds of prosperity.
One more look she glances down,
Casting the final innocence into to the drain
From the new feeling she craved.
Instantly, the air strips apart her soul and her people
That are clasped inbetween
The once secured grip of her old talons.
Never much anger had consumed one's heart
At the sight to lose everything.
What is gone can only remain,
The part of history that will never seem real.