You live in a cage.
You were born in a cage.
And you refuse to leave.
You say it keeps the predators out.
You say it keeps you safe.
You believe you’ll never experience the pain
from a wounded limb
Or a broken wing.
Your feathers will never be ruffled
Your skin will never be sun burned.
You’ll never get lost
Or stranded, or killed at worst.
You’ll always be fed
You’ll never want for anything.
You want to be sure, secure, comfortable.
But you are wrong.
You are a prisoner
And that is by choice.
Yes, you’re trapped by choice.
You fight to lock the bad out
And you forget
that you are really locking yourself in.
Sure, secure, comfortable,
Those aren’t words for an eagle.
They are words for a pet.
You are the predator.
YOU’RE THE KING OF THE BIRDS.
You’re the one with the magical eyes
That can challenge the galaxy’s sun
With a stare.
You’re the one
As the ancient words say
That renews his strength
And never wearies.
But you’ll never see the glory of the skies
Nor the majesty of the seas.
You’ll never experience the thrill
of soaring above the clouds.
You’ll never know how it feels
To fly without limits.
Your song will never be different.
And it might never be heard.
You’ll never experience
The joy of freedom
Nor the relief of healing after pain.
You’ll never feel the wind on your face
Nor the drops of rain on your back.
You’ll never truly live.
You are an eagle, but
You’ll die average
Like every other pet in a cage.
Oh, just unless you leave the cage
And choose to fly.