In jet black skies a flurry's hear and
wings beat loud.
The breath of fire whispers words that
blow through cloud.
In lonely flight the Unicorn thinks
on life's goal
And snorts in wonder that it feels a
warmth, not cold.
Its hooves alight on aerie crag and
sparks are struck
Like fleeting mem'ries born and lost through
curse or luck.
It folds the wings and looks about the
high rock perch,
Then introspects and learns it's found part
of its search.
To realize the quest may end in
part gives pause;
A hesitation to review its
inborn laws;
A reassessment always painful
to the beast
Because its conscience does not falter
in the least
To reaffirm past guilt and torture
its quick mind
Or gloat in perverse pleasure at what
it may find
To cause more pain as beast rebels 'gainst
Fate's strict line.
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