Little Songbird

In a cage, a little songbird sits

Peacefully on its metal pedestal.

Lonely, but content, the songbird sits

Awaiting the next curtain call,

So that it may create vivid depictions

Of the most gorgeous recollects

Only a free songbird has seen.

But for now, the songbird sits in the cage,

On its metal pedestal.

In a dark room, a little songbird rests

And recharges its weary soul.

Blinded, but aware, the songbird rests

Dreaming of the open world,

So that its songs may become

Ever-more vivid; ever-more sweet,

Ever-more sour, if intended.

But for now, the songbird sits in a dark room,

Recharging its weary soul.

Hidden travels; a little songbird lies

In terror of being taken to a new world.

Scared, but curious, the songbird sits

Imagining what world would it return too.

Unfamiliar smells and sights whisk it's

Worry to wonder;

Finding itself in a new realm.

In a vibrant field, a little songbird flies

Away from the cage which held them prisoner.

Free, unfaded, the songbird

Is released after its weary travels to a new stage;

A new beginning with new, unique melodies to discover.

The songbird emerges; a phoenix of purest creation

Lighting the world with its song for all to bask within.

For now, the songbird flies,

Singing a new melody for all to hear.