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My Song In The Night
As the eye of He is apart-
Signifying his creatures to lie at bay
The gentle haze of His powerful guardian is of start-
In which signifies the nocturnal a new day
Creatures of such,
Being I, the ever great and mighty owl-
To whom birds of day are indebted a sigh,
and greet subtly with a scowl
These day birds of blue-
Understand my words, do not
Denotation, at the most, but connotation they owe no clue
For all I ask is reason to be new found, within their minds it be sought
All of my dark days are accustomed-
To hooting songs of your name
The songs of which birds of blue find no trust in
While I sing only, "My king, my king, my king to who I am dame"
When your wings are to unfurl-
And consecutively befuddle me with beauty
My aubade from within is hurled-
And awakens the birds of blue with unsettlement to be
They chirp 'neath the eye of He-
As my guardian parts way
No rest will be found for me
An insight of somber within me, stays
Birds of blue ponder of themselves they can clip me my wings of sempiternal
But when they're decaying- blanketed by moss
And a young fawn bestows their fading blue-gray a urinal
My ecstacy will uphold not of cross
Wing within wing
Fly away we must
But until then shall I sing
And birds of blue have no trust
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This piece is about a love that is being constricted by the unsupportive beings in life.