Free-verse: A White Heron Shredding its Wings

As days pass by, her innocence shreds more and more.

A white heron, is placed on the castle's roof,

Displayed, for only prestigious folks to see,

Its crystal wings, like a thousand snowflakes,

Are often groomed and caressed by the filthy,

So it perched -- one feather after the other,

Until its beauty, is but a distant mirage, 

Its lord, enraged by the noble act,

Slain it, and decorated its body at the gates,

There, the common folks gathered to bring it back,

They sculpted a statue of it, retaining its inner purity,

A white heron without feathers, cannot fly,

Now soars, in the spirit of the people.

- Stu. T.H. (December 19, 2023)

Author's Note

This was supposed to be silly...

Reviews

[Julian]

Wow- I hop online for a few minutes and intend to only stop by here to offer my thanks for the invitation- and what, to my wandering and wondering eyes doth appear but this jewel of multi layered writing- imagery both plain and complex, more than at first glance, and the final lines would not seem out of place for a senyru written ages ago! Well done. And now, I must go attend to the duties awaiting, wishing you a Merry Christmas and all the blessings of the holiday season,.

[Stu. T.H.]

Thank you for your visit, author Julian. I wish fortunes to be with you as well.

[Dave Brown]

I have a windvane with a swan upon but many years of nasty weather have ended its flying days

[Stu. T.H.]

You have my condolences. Nothing is more painful and saddening than a being that has ceased to fulfil its purpose and desire. Even when it was an inanimate object, I believe that you too had seen it fly - up, up so high. Until it was no longer with us. I suppose I'm just a tad bit sentimental over those inanimate objects.
Thank you for coming by, author Dave Brown.