Throe کے بول

On still and stirless burning plains Slowly spread its mighty wings A w ild-fowl - throe, pestilent pain Vomits cruel curse in the drift Freezing gray glancing eyes Torn, blood-stained plume petals Breaks a flag, then trembling slight As ascends and aims the sky Screak consumes his brawn Air clamors and squalls His body crumbles to dust Burns, flames and blasts Red wound is the fading dusk Acts with freeze, tormented limp, Ash's been spread by the gray land To resurrect and fly again