Natures Race

The bird she flies about the storm
The nest it calls her home
Through the sea of wind and rain
She flies so tattered n torn

The ghosts of death torment her wings
The powers that be, all tremble
For within her beak is breakfast crying
The meal is there so humble

One tree two tree pass her by
She flies among the dark
Three and four in vain liqueur
Reaching at her sight

And death she reigns when hearts are tossed
Amid the Storms and trials
A head so bold it stares direct
Casting off the irons

And the branch from whence she came
The nest to where she flies
In her sight it cries to her
Her babies are all right

Now she comes to land in clear
To feed her hungry children
The golden eyes they spark so quick
And the cat then feeds her kittens…