Feathered in blood,
Endowed with the gift of love,
Bringing of joy, a flood,
The bird of freedom flies above.
Flying in on wings of peace,
With eyes that speak of cruel cages,
She flies above, ushering in a breeze –
A breeze full of spirit turned mellow with the ages.
A body tattooed with rebellious scars
And wounds of wisdom-less war.
But these, her beauty, never mar,
For they speak of courage on the blood-ocean shore.
In vain, today, she tries to fly
Through mountains of silver and gold.
In vain, she tries to escape the sly
And reach beyond to humble souls.