• A golden key forged of emotion and flame unlocks the bondage to the silver cavern Where the passion-bird makes its roost

    Iridescent feathers of laughter and joy
    Glides down its back on the thermals of adulation
    Whistling its song of liberty and generosity

    Innocence befalling the naive creature
    Imperceptive of the misfortune forthcoming
    Soaring with an avian grace
    On the amusing yet unstable whirlwinds of infatuation
    Which rise and fall like the tide
    Thrusting the young fowl into the capricious and fluctuating cage of the Bird-keeper

    Desperate for the breezes of affection
    To once more grace its wingtips
    The little fledgling is unkempt with despair
    Its joy filled love song breaches, desperate to be heard
    But the bird doesn't sing, for its song is only sung when the Bird-keeper's life's at end.

    Little bird soon escapes the bondage of melancholy
    The joyous song that'd been hidden but never forgot
    Are reincarnated when the thermals of love and sincerity
    Finally grace its matured wings.