Pretty bird in a gilded cage.
Lovely feathers strewn on the floor.
Darkness may kill,
But it will never cage a pretty bird.
Darkness may entrap her forever,
Keep her lost and alone,
She may never see the light of day again,

But darkness will never put her in a gilded cage,
For all the world to gaze at.
Or for no one to gaze at,
Forgotten and alone,
Left in some long abandoned garden,
Never to fly free again.
Trapped and without help,
Dying, with no one to save her.

And so the pretty bird likes the darkness better.
She becomes seduced,
Trapped, entangled.
She forgets the world,
And grows weary of thinking about it.
She releases herself to the darkness.
She gives her soul up forever.

And the darkness gives nothing in return.
She is free to fly in the darkness,
Yet, in darkness,
She cannot truly be free.
There is only so far you can go in the darkness.
And that is as far as you see.

What a twisted freedom.
Yet the pretty bird prefers it to a cage.