How far would an eagle fall
With its wings folded back and its beak to the ground
At almost the speed of sound.
Piercing eyes painted black, reflections off the rock wall,
Would it ever give up at all?
Every crisp clear day more perfect than the last
It soars through empty air, how could it possibly fare,
Each day as unmarked as the last, with nothing ever to say.
How far would an eagle fall.
Would it hit the ground, or would it ever give up at all?
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