With The Trail of an Eagle

Another season, Caesar. Another lie, another argument.
They've left many times, with the trail of an eagle.
(A shadow drags you up the stairs and down the stairs.)
They die away.
Shrink
into the opposite side of the room.
Me, soon to forget
as weak as the eagle that flies into unknown
and off this land.

They are at the back of my hand.
And I choose never to be forgotten.

"How miracles slide down"
You said, softly.
I thought you were nothing.
But you have proved a shadow
is more
(these days)
than a human that walks as if
life was not a word worth writing about.

Confusing as it is, I give second chances and furthermore I deserve one.