In the middle of nowhere,In the abode of dreams,
A divine bird sang a song never heard before,
Of peace, of love, of joy, of mirth.
She sang away day and night,
With sharp trills and lots of thrills,
Her song was a balm for the agonized souls,
Her song was one of the few pleasures for the downtrodden.
Her tune enveloped the world in a thin shroud of enchanted beauty,
Her melody relieved the world of its misery.
To the other feathered beings she was a mystery,
One they looked up to with unbridled respect.
She was worshipped by her brethren,
She was a queen to them.
A queen who ruled her subjects with love and honour and eternal care,
A queen as holy as the gods.
One fateful day, a human walked into the forest,
With bows and arrows and handful of stones,
With a single skilled shot, he brought down the queen,
Filling the sky with the cries of creatures unseen.
Since then, every morning the winged-creatures screamed in hellish rage,
Reminded of the loss of their goddess at the sight of men of every age,
Screech of the glory of their queen unheard,
But sadly, we do not speak bird.
haywiredthoughtsandstrokes 