The eagle has flown

What time is this, when eagles fall?
What day be it that angels tremble?
Why must my frail heart mourn,
this tragedy of life seems a useless ensemble!

Oh Lord!
Hear my piteous call,
for I feel as though I'm sinking,
fading as mist on the shore.

Lift me up high in your loving arms,
let the wind kiss away my shallow oxide-tears.
Sever all the chains that have me charmed.
Lord fight away all of my fears.

My strength is nought but an autumn leaf,
fading into the remains of yesterday.
Joy is a distant concept, a child's insipid dream,
crushed by the feet of these beasts of clay.

If I were but an eagle I would blaze,
through the pains of yesterday,
and laugh at all those dusty fools,
who had my soul tight under their flimsy rules.