Revocation

  In the cave where angels sing,  Lies a bird with broken wings.  She cannot speak but for broken cries,  Of what use is she but to die?  The little bird who feels so alone,  Curled up in a circle of stone,  The blood of her bretheren who dared to defy  Soaks through her heart in bitter black lies.   Memories are hell, they're of its harshest sting,   Alone in her cave, Silence is King.