Gathered in a silent warehouse,
Banking off of subtlety,
Building thrust on borrowed feet
To stand, to walk, to jog, to run.
Sprouting wings as if to fly on
Whiffs of light angelic air,
Climbing to the jet stream where
Her boundless energy can ride.
Now the flow cannot be quelled.
Now the air can only bend
Concentric circles one on one
To wrap around, around again.
Trapped inside this angry vortex,
Miles and miles from hearth and home,
Seeking merciful protection,
Waiting for the rage to end.
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