They sung on trees and told
The story passing in bold,
Here chirps one anew for more,
Another flies to listen nor
Sparing; serene to slowly move,
Better yet, in her words soothe
The song of a bird who never sung
Nor intends to sing erelong,
None to listen and soon stops,
Tho it is soon his voice drops,
The darkness slowly lifted high,
But only soon bids others goodbye,
For he’s indifferent to anyone,
For he’s different from everyone,
As silence silently his chirp replace,
By a way to fly but none to face,
Flies away and his words he forgets,
None to listen and they him rejects,
Continues on a path anyway, just;
Leaves everyone but his soul first,
Wanders down to the crowd in sight,
Away they stir and divide and fight,
So bitter they wait to mock at bay
This much that now he falls away.

Category:
Life, Nature, Nocturnal, Poetry, Works
Tags:
, , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , ,
%d bloggers like this: