Into the Wind

Night reigns in this abyss.
No light. All is dark, all dead.
I sit and mourn for moments
lost. The skull and bones
lie crossed.

I board a ship and sail away –
bound for freedom; to fly
the eagle’s byways, soar
the wind’s roar, sleep the steely night
safe from Winter’s hoar.

A mother cries, a baby dies;
I ride skies on halcyon wings,
feathered wings of days now passed.
On the wind, I glide; blasting by,
fading fast.

Ryan Stone