Heart of Birds

The broken heart,
is the hardest part,
to keep inside of me,
It keeps on calling,
Keeps on mourning,
In endless reverie,

The bird in there sings on and on lonely in its despair,
Waiting for someone else to come and help heal its timeless tear,

The tear breaks the bird and it screams in agony,
The fateful day, the horrid pain the bird needs a fantasy,

The bird is dead it sings no more no emotions left to sing,
...And then a person comes along and finds the poor dead thing,

They sing to it a lullaby a small token of their shame,
Of neglecting the bird,
For killing its words,
And for making it take the blame,

The person weeps,
The glade sweeps,
Endless time holds true,
The bird is dead,
The person fled,
And all that's left is you...