Everything rolls towards an end, and we are still expected to smile at what we have.
The loneliness grows faster than the happiness, and horror rains down as the lunacy creeps up my spine slowly at first but I know it won't stop in its coming.
The visitor has left it's waiting place and someone told it of where I now hide so my discovery is inevitable.
Do I sit and wait or do I run again ?
I'm not strong enough yet to face it and I'm uncertain if i will ever be.
We lost our paradise many nights past, and the birds of death circle above this old house just waiting for their chance at raw skin and bone stripping.
Should I dress myself in feathers and become one again with the death they bring? I know how to live that way, waiting in dead trees, fighting for life, searching for prey.
Am I worth any more than that ?
I know none of you can answer me, I know you don't even see past just a page of words. All of this lives on the inside of my skull, I'm faced with it every time I close my eyes, it's one reason I can't sleep.
It's a choice of that or the circling birds and today I choose the birds, I'll wear my feathers like a cloak, and the blood will drip from my solid beak as I scream my bird song high above the green trees and into the black clouds that gather above all that tries to live.
Endlessly endlessly I'll persist in my attempts to break the sky into pieces.