a fable

A fable

I flew high, but it was hot, my wings were tired
when spotting a well sat on the rim of the well
saw my reflection; yes, I was beautiful, but
noticed a dark shadow behind me
pushing me into the well and  looking up
Evil had gone
clawed myself to the top, the Evil sat by the fireside
my talons scratched its eyes out
 Evil ran outside, cooling his dead eyes in falling
I'm a silky bird with golden feathers 
The evil scream bore man's suffering 
Wisdom lost there was a land that had golden sand
lemon trees and jubilant grapes
A Muslim land?
Among them lived a minority known for wisdom 
prosperity and respect, with riches, came power
Europe was full of new ideas and a call from the minority
that had grown rich until calamity blocked progress 
The call from this minority was a new demand for the right to
go back to the land of golden sand and lemon tree to turn
it into their land and to get revenge for the past indignity 
So it comes to pass, for now, but since the minority had lost
the wisdom of the story is endless 
those who have spent years on ship decks
 know how to keep the balance