up up.
flies and stays But those
Joy below
can't reach.

Does the bird with wings
Give up his flight?
Does the hunter lose

His cunning and might?

Does the howl of the wolf
Lessen in pain?
Does the beautiful princess
Stop being vain?

With one glance at the setting sun,
I retreat to the land for an evening run.
I bid farewell to the bird and wing,
Pause to listen for the hunter to sing.

Sweet song melds into a painful cry,
I leave to tell the wolf goodbye.
I pass the princess and give my prayers,
To humble her children and all her heirs.

For these things I wish no repayal,
I simply want to ward off betrayal.
Joy flew too high for me to reach,
But ne'er help did I beseech.

I simply hoped for the very best,
Watching for sunrise over hillcrest.
I said farewell every single day...
So when do -I- get to fly away?

Penned by my hand on the 13th of Severin, in the year 139 MA.