Once upon a time, a bird

(a young and fragile thing)

Far far above the treetops, tall,

To the wind her song did sing.

 

She lived inside a birdhouse

Swayed from branches high.

With walls of white, blue, yellow,

To match the dazzling sky.

 

The bird would spend the daytime

Soaring through the air,

Twirling through the lit up clouds

Until no longer could she bare.

 

She'd then return to home,

To rest from the day's chore,

Crawling through the knothole

To sprawl across the floor.

 

But today the sun shone strangely,

The paint on her house odd.

The colors lit up differently,

Their brilliance plainly flawed.

 

While returning to her house once more,

The bird flew close with care.

She peeped into her knothole

With wonder she glanced there.

 

Gently across the threshold,

She stepped onto the floor.

The moment she was safe inside

Behind her, shut the door.

 

And suddenly, the walls closed in,

The floor began to ooze.

The ceiling smiled it's loathesome grin

With the windows it did fuse.

 

Disgusting black material

Erupted from the cracks.

Beneath the bed more monsters

Attacked her from the back.

 

The inky substance trapped her.

Her house left to descent

From it's perch among the Heavens

Towards Hell it swiftly went.

 

Not knowing what to do

The bird struggled to survive.

She thrashed her mangled limbs

Though none could her her cry.

 

A toddler runs outside his home

To find, he did not know,

A nasty mini-treehouse

Inscirbed with, "so it goes".