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So my beautiful eagle now soars, high above the mountains. Across the infinite blue sky. She looks down to see the earth, And sees instead the world. With tired wings she glides, her mortal wounds heal fast. My eagle is so beautiful, the eagle is my love. Her strength will always carry her, high above the sun. She smiles as she looks down, on all the ones she loves. For thunder does not scare her, the lightning would not dare. Her strength is in her spirit, her heart, her soul, her love. james dylan monk. 13/3/2001  |
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