Those wings fly through the night
Aiding Perseus in his fight
Against Eight’s waves and creatures
Told in stories by Old Greek Teachers
Soaring through the sky as if a bird
Wings make no sound, nor speak a word
Able to lift Hercules and his great mass
Loving the taste of apples, but do not mind grass.
Flying along side Apollo’s chariot
Surviving any wound no matter how deep the cut.
Galloping in that moonlight sky
Dreams of being on saddle and to fly.
Glory granted a place in the stars
Without cage, chains nor bars.
Watching over mankind and seeing those planes, trains and cars
Eternally resting beside a blackened night or spoken in stories sealed in ancient glass jars.