The Eagle With Hungry Eyes

The Eagle With Hungry Eyes

The eagle watched with hungry eyes,

above the hills where silence lies.

It scanned the earth in cold detail,

where shadows crawl and whispers fail.

No mercy softened that fierce gaze,

no flicker in the hunting blaze.

It knew the price the hunted pay,

the dark beneath the light of day.

The fields stretched wide, a quiet sea,

where nothing moved but memory.

Each blade of grass, each cracked stone,

marked a path where fear had grown.

The eagle dipped without a sound,

a ghost that cleaves the open ground.

Its talons struck with ruthless grace,

the final move in nature’s chase.

But hunger lives beyond the kill,

a restless voice, a sharper will.

It drives the wings that never tire,

the burning heart, the silent fire.

No shelter hides from eagle’s sight,

no refuge found in day or night.

It moves with cold, unyielding force,

the law of life, the driving course.

And when the last light fades away,

the eagle waits for dawn’s first day.

Because the hunger never ends,

it shapes the world and breaks, and bends.