The house of Ayrin

Fantasy poems

 

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The wind

The sun get up over the mountains,
lightening the valley,
the life wakes up,
and happiness fill me.

I open my wings,
and jump down from the rock
i spent the night over,
flying to the lower valley.

The fresh air of the morning,
lull me like i was a children,
I inspire the fresh air,
the wind is my friend.

We fly together,
wrapped in a soft hug,
like tender lovers,
like we are the same spirit.

I play with the wind,
and his thousand stream,
but now it's no time to play,
it's time to hunt.

I see a prey under me,
a tender bite,
I wait a moment sustained by the wind,
while i thanks and pray for his soul.

Silent and fast I nose-dive over him,
I will not do harm,
He will not feel pain,
only a moment the dead.

A sharp pain, my wing jabed,
I see the earth run towards me,
I close my eyes while I feel in my mouth
the taste of blood.

I open one eye, I can't move,
I feel cold, waiting the hunter take me away,
a long wait, an idle wait,
I'm still there when the night comes.

I hear steps,
a wolf come near,
and pray for my soul,
before let it free.

Ayrin Greenflag
Third of the five