Wings of Gold

In the forgotten corners of the world,

Where echoes of ancient songs still swirl,

There lies a bird with wings of gold,

Its tale by poets left untold.

With feathers of the brightest hue,

It soars above the morning dew,

A creature born of myth and lore,

Its presence felt forevermore.

In sacred groves where time stands still,

It sings a song that seems to fill

The empty spaces of the earth,

A melody of death and birth.

No mortal eye has seen its flight,

Nor heard the secrets of the night,

But those who listen with their soul,

Will feel its presence make them whole.

So let us heed the call of old,

And seek the bird with wings of gold,

For in its song we'll find the key,

To unlock our true destiny.