A Cry for Kindred Wings

As the majestic eagle loves his air,

Climbing, twisting, up his wispy stair,

Mocking Icarus’s too-soft wings,

For power holds the raptor o’er grandiose things,

Most a splendor, ardent in his realm,

As the captain at his galley’s helm

Is one with the sea,

Do I long to be.

I would have join me now a kindred soul,

One forged in the same heart-fires, o’er crippled Vulcan’s coal,

One who in the mold, so malleable

They matched my form, quite unbelievable.

But rather than by limbs, I would be wrought, as was his heart,

By scorn from woman loved, so as to start

A passionate, burning melancholy

Transcendent of society,

So to live, as if by freedom’s feathers,

And fly the sun, no melted wax, as brothers.