Eagle's Nest Hunters, shaman, watchers gather, pillars of the sky are seen, boiling nests, creations lather, birth beyond imagining _________________ ... across the plains of wilderspace. For we have cracked the vault of heaven, spilt angels into emptiness, with visions ever-widening even God must search for grace. Four mighty trees, but fragile sticks stretched over heaven's span, now root an empty crucifix deep in celestial sands. That bend to neither prayer nor pride what goeth there before the fall, through corridors where stars collide and galaxies are swallowed whole. Long centuries our myths have slept among those ghostly clouds, blood-dimmed stories tightly stitched within an earthly shroud. The veil of innocence is torn, our muse condemned to silence before the place of shadows born in rookeries of violence. Where poets, dreamers, madmen see beyond the eagle's lair, by some remote geometry the falcon's widening gyre.
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