Poetry Challenge #17 -- Wings


The Demon King ~ He/They
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  2. Adept
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Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Nonbinary
  4. Transgender
  5. Primarily Prefer Male
Horror, Sci-Fi, Fantasy, Superpowers, Drama. Also, romance is required with me because I will get bored without it.
This challenge is focused on flying! Write me something poetic about this magical experience, be it from real life, a dream or the perspective of someone else. Flying always seemed like a beautiful subject to make poetry for. The mood can be either positive or negative; flying's not for everyone. ;) Here's a list of ideas if you need:

  • Birds
  • Aeroplanes
  • Angels
  • Flying in a dream
  • Dragons
  • Butterflies
  • Spacecrafts
  • A nightmare
  • Ghosts

I hope I was able to inspire you with my lovely list. XD I'll post up a poem of my own if I can get a member or two to join in. I encourage you to make the poem(s) look pretty with bbcodes. If you need some guidance as to what style your poem should be, take a look at Shadow Poetry.
Soaring through the night sky
The dragon has its wings spread out far
Breathing his fire of passion
To protect the people below

I stand outside holding my hands out high
He swoops down and lands by my side
Mounting him like a horse we begin to take off
Flying high and low

Going up into the cloudless sky
Staring off into the full moon
It felt like a dream that I wish could never end
Sadly I had woken up in my bed

I go outside and look up into the cloudless sky
The dragon... It was not there
Sitting for hours staring up
It was a dream... Oh how I wish I never said that.
It's not very good, and I have an odd poetry style, but hey.
It's from the point of view of a bird:

What must it be like?​

To never experience that sensation,​

To never be truly free.​

How must they feel, down there,​

Looking up on us?​

Do they feel regret,​

For a world they will never experience?​

Do they feel longing,​

For a life that they could be living?​

Do they watch us,​

With smiles on their face?​

Do they see us,​

And turn the other way?​

Do the ones below us,​

Who walk on two-legs with featherless bodies,​

On four-legs with fur and claws,​

Not realise that they have missed out,​

On the greatest gift of all?​

Sure, they have their strength,​

And their loping gait.​

They can keep their opposable thumbs,​

Their fast quick, nimble fingers.​

For we alone have,​

The gift of the Gods.​

Thought I'd give it a try. ^_^


In the endless skies they shatter,
They spread, like endless possibilities
Outstretched, they touch the clouds

Swaying utterly, swooping dangerously
Picking at the wind with their feathers;
Scaling the scattered skies

Whispering their free breaths;
Exaggerated passions
Sighs of comforted satisfactions

Pleasured by the wind,
Howling like a wolf's vocals
As the wind is trapped against their fathered membranes

Sailing off through the endless forest
Of passionate destinies and paradises.
They flutter down their isles.

High-winded packed rockets
As these characters set off
Through the endless skies of designated fantasies.

I doubt that I shall ever see
A bird so beautiful as me

With wings of fire, pointed light
A truly captivating sight

Red feathers with an orange streak
And long, sharp claws, a pointed beak

I take off from the trees and fly
Explore the world with my emerald eyes

Through forests thick and valleys deep
Cross rivers wide and mountain's peak

Above the villages I soar
And frighten all with a ghastly roar

In all the world, there is no cage
That could contain my fiery rage

So bow to me, or feel the wrath
Of a beast that rises from the ash

(I <3 Couplets)
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Black ink flows in lines
Sharp edges and rounded corners
Forming delicate veins of feathers
Pressing tight to pale skin coal dark wings
The haunting promise of freedom
To an otherwise flightless creature
Sealing the whispers of a new life
Into every arch etched with painstaking care
Making sure that there will be no flaw when she flies
I'm driving...
radio blasting
windows open
I'm dreaming...
phantom sound
people without faces
colors more vivid than life;
I'm running...
sharp tang of sweat in my eyes
wind whipping at my clothing
startled wildlife scattering at my feet.
I'm riding...
roaring engine beneath me
adrenaline pulsing through my veins
they bleed together...
briefly, much too briefly.
That's when I'm flying...
it feels like I'm dreaming
it feels like wind in my face
it feels like freedom I can't quite reach
but will always reach for.
Lock the Gate

I had taken my wings as a blessing
Until I found the limit to my flight
I was being chased by hellhounds
Their eyes glowed in the night

They kept after me, undaunted
And I could only fly so long
The were catching up to me
My wings weren't very strong

My mind was also annoyed that
I had forgotten to lock the gate
The gate to Hell, it was my job
But now I've sealed my fate

My mother angel probably sighed
Her daughter failed her test
But it just went to show
That I was not the best

My flight path was shaky
I was quickly losing my sight
The eyes of my pursuers
Filled my being with fright

And now with this final flaps
I know what is of my fate
And I pray for the cherubs
That they remember to lock the gate

Based off of a dream.
(I didn't make it all prettyful with BBC code or anything. I'm pretty terrible with coding stuff, actually.)

Am I an Angel or a Demon?
I, myself, do not know.
These wings of black and white
Of char and of snow

As I fly above the others
They all stop and stare
They don't know what they should feel
Hope or a good scare?

My flights were once joyous
The feel of wind about
But now I see they label me
As evil or devout

These wings they do deny me
My peace and calm of mind
Am I a monster or a savior
Fate has such cruel design
Does She Sing in Yours, Too?

So I emerge, but no wings
Grace my tenebrous back;
They cry from within.

They scream to be born
As the sunset slices
Into these eyes.

And I melt, golden
In the moments fading before me.

And I melt in vermilion,
The hue I wished my wings to be.

So is the Butterfly in my chest.

So she struggles before her rest.

Soaring through the midnight sky,
Beneath the white moon,
The owl flies.
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Three called "Heaven" up above,
the first the source of good and love.
Two remain for us below,
both of which have much to show.

Dark and empty, so it seems;
second heaven's stuff of dreams.
Full of lights that shine so clear,
with myst'ry and a touch of fear.

Home of beasts that take to air,
light and live, third heaven's fair.
The open sky has room for all,
but what goes up is bound to fall.
Everyone waxes poetic
About the wonder of flight.
Of its freedom and grace.
Its unattainable wonder.

Metaphors are sung
Around the life of flight.
But I've never felt any need
To ever do such things.
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I wish I was a bird
So I could fly up in the sky
I want to be a bird
So I could fly up and high

I wish we are birds
So we can feel how to be free
I want us to be birds
So we can just let it be

But I am not a bird
So I can't fly and I do not feel free
And we are not birds
But I still have you and me

I am not a bird
So what if I am not?
We are not birds
So we should not

I am still me
You are still You
Bird or not
We can still be happy
Look at them,
Stuck on land,
I on the other hand,
Can leave,

I see them stare,
They mock me,
They try and harm me,
But I just laugh,

Why do they hate me,
Well many reason's I guess,
I represent wisdom,
To some,
Others I'm hope,

But to them,
And destruction,

Why there jealous of course,
For I can take flight and leave,
While they are stuck,
Stuck here they are,

I am not like other birds,
I do not have many colors,
I am not white,

I am a shade of blue,
Yet purple or black,
I do not speak the same,
For I crow when I speak,

What am I?
Take a guess,
You'll see.

A Raven
I've heard many a man say to me
I wish I could fly, so I could be free.
I've often remarked to the people
It's cold up there.

They retort with talk of magic and space
so free is the air to them.
I tell them they might get attacked by birds
I do this freely, with a magical glint in my eyes.

They angrily inform me that I have no imagination
and I ground myself with my thoughts.
I happily tell them that this is true
when it comes to air
for I have the oceans.
It made me think I could fly,
Could sprout feathered wings,
And soar above.

I thought I could soar on air,
Could touch the clouds,
In the wind.

I was so sure I was gliding,
Rain falling around me,
On the storm.

But alas, I was just a feather,



And forced to rest,
Only dreaming,
All alone.
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  • Nice Execution!
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What good are wings if you cannot fly?
What evil twist is this?
Should a bird be bound to earth
To never feel the wind's uplifting hiss?

How cruel is fate to leave me here
Without a hope of flight
Without a single soaring glide
Unless upon a sheet of white

Looking up at other's wings
That dance upon the wind
And float up in the clouds above
What mostly comes to mind

Is the thought that I can dream
A bird without wings who cannot fly
Yet I can glide and swim and slide
An Emperor Penguin am I
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Metal bird soaring high
bewildered goose passing by
clouds parting before the prow
metal bird landing now.

Metal bird, hundredth flight
cutting straight across the night
eating both the sea and land
to meet all of Man's demand.

Metal bird, blind to war
racing, flying, made to soar
missed the tiny metal sparrow
shot off like a spiny arrow.

Metal bird, falling fast
from the clouds and sky so vast
to the frozen ground below
buried in a Russian snow.