a fortiori

Why the grown hawk would struggle on
The wind
I cannot know

I've seen it, though
And desiring
To help things along for regalness sake

I reached up on high
In prayer
To see burden lifted, compass-mark found


What when all you allowed to stifle you


Turns tail

And walks away with the stench of fraud hanging from its defeated bones

Might you then heave and gasp for the first time since your youth 


You will

When what all you allowed saves you