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.