Bird's Eye View

On the edge of a window stands a bird

His wings are clipped and his beak is curved.

No one knows the secrets he holds,

All they hear are the demons he knows.

Singing a song from beyond the wayward skies

Masses shout words through the smoke and the lies.

Whatever they point at we all fail to see,

But through the abyss they claim to hear a silent plea.

On the edge of a window stood a bird.