Clipped wings
Though for a day
For any bird
Would seem a lifetime
Cropped short
My mane is no longer
My crown
Lynched and shamed
Burned black
My eyes hot with anger
The reins
Have been lashed again
Nameless
This cause we're sold
An idea
Noble, until it unfolds
Fruitless
The stubborn sparks of hope
Ignite again
Against stoned jaded souls
Disappointed
In the rewards for the just
Frustrated
By systemic pessimistic rust
I concede
That I may heed your orders once
My loyalty
Will not be easily earned
Not until
There is more than just a promise
At last
We speak not only to your shadow
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