Spirit Of The Hawk

You're a spawn of the high cliffs,

Slave to the wind and son to the storm.

Born to a life on the free wings,

Without chains to hold back your heart.

Sweep through the air

Spy for the prey.

Feel your blood pumping

And then speed away.

Spirit of the hawk

Wild and free,

Master of the sky.

Creature of the

Northwind's seed

Flying ever so high.

Beneath a scarlet horizon,

Ascending are the feathers of the wild.

Soar on you king of the welkin,

Still spying down upon the ground.