Ducks and Kites

Allow my feathers to mingle with the stream

Break the ground tethers, and meet with the dream

Chicks of myself, splashing without fear

Let the water lick, lashing in time with the fire's hot tear

Black smog surrounding the sky

Distant screeches let out venomous cries

Flying is not an option so the little ones must cower

Left in the pit of black powder

Kites lurk above, ensnared by their power

Their screeches only growing much louder

Run little ducks, into the Wittenoom bridge's dent,

Though your death isn't related to the end