I Am Wrecked Feathered Wing by Lovely

Upward, downward, high & low
Arms of feathers, it don't know where to go.
Scraping, grazing wind & feather grinding
Searching, it's probably somewhere I am finding.

It screeches loud, ear-split-ted sing
I am the wreck-feathered wing.

I am that wing, with its majestic feather
Flapping gracefully, growing steadier.
Each time it wags, one might fall
Uncaring; one just fall--not all.

Hence each fallen feather, descending down
Will find their way onto defiled ground.

It don't know, it don't see
Each feathers are a family.
One will define, will represent
Many meanings, certain element

Of power & weakness, failure & hope
Of grieving forever, or knowing to cope.

Lose a feather, that means will go
So learn how to right wrong, then it will again grow.
You find your ways with waiting still
That strange ability, your patient skill.

Just waiting, although you do nothing
Until they grow, feather or sheer hoping.

Then again... you lose what you just grew
Still you're stubborn, it'll grow again, you knew.
Standing there at the morn's moist dew
Starting over, to something fresh & new.

Such lucky birds flying up so high
Upward, downward, playing in the sky.

& here I am, like a leftover feast
With no more feather... a naked beast.