snowcapped majesty, how he cleaves through the wind
with an icelike demeanor—stoic and proud, fearless -
it isn’t hard to see why the eagle is the symbol of
freedom, for who else but he, with his gaze piercing
its prey—frozen daggers impaling the flesh, the harsh
talons of a winter night’s embrace —but still I wonder:
does he see this badge we have nailed to his breast -
frozen white upon his mane—one he never asked for?
About the Creator
D.A. Baldwin
I am currently a student at a university, trying to find my way in life, while also trying to write a book. Lots of ideas bouncing in my head for potential articles, so we'll see how that goes. Cheers!
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