In skies high, the falcon soared,
With grace and strength, its wings adored.
But envy struck, a heart impure,
A soul consumed, with for a commander
A figure, dark, with fists of hate,
Did strike the bird, sealing its fate.
In silence fell the noble one,
Its spirit gone, its journey done.
Though battered, broken, the falcon fought,
Against a Texan, its spirit sought.
But in the end, as shadows spread,
The falcon lay, its wings now dead.
