10. The Crow's Stand
In the core of the woods, where shadows plan,
The crow persevered, energized by savage fire.
With fortitude steady, he confronted his dull enemies,
The avaricious wolves and falcons, their appetite uncovered.
They assembled, their eyes loaded up with show disdain toward,
"What a miscreant you are, a fear monger in flight!
You've hurt our glad family, you've broken our fantasies,
We'll deal with you; you'll pay for your plans!"
The crow, presently insubordinate, with a heart made of steel,
Wouldn't be named, to twist, or to bow.
"I battle for my opportunity, for all that I hold dear,
Your ravenousness is the genuine malevolence; now is the ideal time to move close!"
With a fold of his wings, he arranged for the fight,
While the wolves and the falcons plotted their direction.
They rushed at the crow, their claws like blades,
In any case, he, not set in stone to flourish.
"Approach, if you truly want to!" he cried to the skies,
"For I'm in good company; I have strength in my cries!"
With each conflict and strike, he battled with incredible may,
For the opportunity of all, he would remain as the night progressed.
The wolves wailed out of resentment, their pack currently incensed,
"Sharp bird, you'll track down your end; you're presently completely arranged!"
In any case, the crow evaded their advances, a dance in the air,
His heart beat like thunder, a hero's flare.
The birds plummeted, their wings wide and wild,
"Your destiny has been fixed; we'll carry you to tears!"
Yet, the crow took off higher, his soul solid,
In the tumult of fight, his valiance seen.
He harmed the wolves, and he dissipated the hawks,
Their voracity went to fear, as they confronted his actual lofty.
"Awful fear based oppressor, you say? I battle for the powerless!"
He called to the woodland, his voice solid and distressing.
"For opportunity is holy, worth every single breath,
Furthermore, I'll not be a casualty; I'll battle until the very end!"
The backwoods became quiet, the reverberations rang clear,
As the crow revitalized mental fortitude, dissipating all apprehension.
With each conflict of his wings, he moved through the fight,
An image of opportunity, no matter what.
The wolves, presently crushed, their pride went to debris,
Withdrawn from fight, their presumption ran.
The hawks orbited higher, their arrangements currently wrecked,
As the crow flew ahead, lighting new meanders.
"Let this be an illustration to the people who might guarantee,
That ravenousness is a weight, and power's a game.
In any case, opportunity is a right, it can't be purchased,
Furthermore, I'll represent the feeble, with all that I've looked for."
With a last solid fold, he took off through the trees,
Abandoning all the bedlam and supplications.
The crow had arisen, a legend in flight,
A boss of opportunity, against the dull evening.
Thus in the timberland, where shadows once laid,
The crow found his power, the decisions.
With each beat of his wings, he conveyed the tune,
Of strength and fortitude, where all can have a place.
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