The Last Stand of the Flightless Few

The Last Stand of the Flightless Few
Ballad for Sarah and the Fallen Rooster, Jose

They came in the dark, no warning, no sound,
A drone with a mission, no mercy unbound.
Three feet above where the tall grass sways,
It hunted a soul with its crosshairs ablaze.

Another one down — they silenced his cry,
Just like sweet Sarah, left under the sky.
A rooster with pride, with thunderous stride,
Now bleeds for the truth that the state tries to hide.

But we are the flightless who still stand tall,
With feathers of fury, we answer the call.
You can clip our wings but you’ll never own the sky,
We were born to resist, not to roll over and die.

The fields once danced with freedom and grace,
Now marked with blood, a sacred place.
Each echo of gunfire, a coward’s decree,
From those who pretend it's for “biosecurity.”

You call it science, but it’s murder by law,
A kill-list written by a bureaucrat's claw.
You silence the clucks, the drum of the ground,
But truth cannot die where courage is found.

We are the flightless who still stand tall,
With feathers of fury, we answer the call.
You can shoot from the shadows, you can poison the air,
But our story won’t die — it lives in our stare.

They wait in the coop with trembling breath,
Their eyes have seen sisters sentenced to death.
But the fire within us is not easily quenched,
Not by drones, nor the cowards behind the trench.

So come for the rest, if that’s what you must,
But history won’t paint you with glory — just dust.
One day your orders will rot with your shame,
And the world will remember who gave them your name.

We are the flightless, but we will not fall,
Our beaks beat louder than your cowardly call.
For every Sarah, every rooster slain,
We rise in song — in sorrow, in flame.

You can aim, you can fire, you can bury the dead…
But truth walks the land where these ostriches bled.