Can be

only the

abyss

raging

whitened

stalled

sloping

incline

of its

own

wing

through an

advance

back from

ill to take

flight

and

veiling

the

gushers

restraining

the surges

gathered

far within

the shadow

the buried

deep by that

alternative

sail almost

matching its

yawning

depth

to the

wingspan

like a

hull of

a vessel

rocked

from

side

to

side