I can see in your black eye
The fires of the future,
The raging, roaring fires
To sear away the ache.

I can see in your bronze wing
The falling mason stones,
The crushing, crashing marble
To bury deep the fright.

Your six poised legs amaze me,
So ready now to spring
With willing, waiting zeal
To wipe us from the earth.

But I must leave you now, my pet,
Within a child's hands.
I do regret to say farewell—
Children can be so cruel.