The eyrie

• Fiona Downie, Grade 9
• Poetry
• 2005

The sorrow of the world is seen,
The danger and death understood,
Five miles high a nest is built,
I’d go there if I could.

The Eyrie is a special place,
I’m tied down here, I know,
But when life does release me,
Then I will gladly go.

The wars, the hurt, the death,
I collapse onto the ground,
The pain, the conflict, and all the ends,
I hear screams, the only sound.

I can finally meet the eagle,
The maker of the nest,
I left because of sorrow,
Now my soul is put to rest.