Pieces of an Eagle

The line of red that runs down your spine aligns it self with a vehemence inside my own
for every line that drops down, for every line that cascades
another color comes about
representing the stance occurring in you, in me, on them

The salt beneath my eyes is much like the bitterness falling off the eagle, marked with stokes of hate and hope, and everything else that falls in between.
I knew you were scared
as we stood looking over a city with great hope
I felt it, and said it to be so

I come offering nothing more than who I have been made to be.
Not front forth with expectations or aspirations to change anything but the world in which we live in.

Take it for what it is, hide from what ever you wish
I won’t back down, and I won’t push forth.
My posture is straitThere’s a lot to hold up
I am no longer living for a future, but for the sun on the other end of that horizon

Run or come alongside
I will be standing still
Basking in a glory of shine far greater than anything I could create.