Eagle

The Eagle swoops low on the breeze as the icicles form in my brain and fall into the chasm of despair. Soaring higher on the breeze and the warming rays of the sun fill my soul with Euphoria. The Eagle flies higher, and yet higher, until the rays of the sun scorch and burn, and yet higher and higher, until the Eagle is consumed and falls from the sky plummeting to the dwellings of man where few dare to dream of the Eagle and touch the Sun.

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