The succulent siver

Still clings,

To the ethereal bird

With her broken wings.

 

At it's dying delicacy

I stare,

With me

She begins to share.

 

She showered me

With the veiled secrets of the world,

As at Death's threshold 

she lay curled.

 

I told her I would do most anything

"Do not let them die,"

She told me

But in my sorrow I must have uttered a total lie. 

 

For as I gazed

At this majestic bird,

I'm so terribly afraid 

I must not have heard.

 

And in a way that only the dying do

She wispered, "Dreams,"

But I cannot be certain that's what it was

Mournfully it seems.

 

Because at that moment she began to sing

In a voice so thin,

The most beautiful thing

Known as the song of all living dreams.

 

DREAMS ARE AWESOME (-: