The singsong tears, mending the death

Wanting and waiting, bating hot breath.

But the phoenix calls and sings her song

Helping to follow this journey so long

The raven flies in and tosses and turns

Flying through the fire burns

The blackbird sings, but nothing is heard

A tear drips down this empty bird

The red hawk calls and finds its prey

Yet it can't see past the fogging gray

The snowy owl calls again

But nothing reaches that empty fen

See the way the bird dives down

When it knows where it intends to go

But see the world spinning round

Caught inside its baneful foe

The wind it spins, making chaos in its horrid ways

All these birds wishing that they had spent their days

Tears drip down as they continue crying

Wishing they could continue flying