Trapped

The graceful bird lands on the lake,
The fear now keeping it awake.
Despite the dark, it cannot sleep,
All it can do is float and weep.

Its broken wing’s the source of pain,
And all its efforts are in vain.
It cannot fly, its fate’s no more,
As long as it can’t reach the shore.

But hungry wolves surround the lake,
A bite of it wishing to take.
Only by air will it be free…
Oh, bitter, cruel irony!

Only the water’s its escape,
But just until it’s far too late.
Death lingers on its broken soul,
Waiting to give the final blow.

Defeated, pained, forever so,
The swan has nowhere else to go.
And when it’s time, its final cry’s
A broken, haunting lullaby.

– Patricia