In its slow cries
All can hear.
Why say nothing?
Why steer clear?

You pray for it,
Clasp your dirty hands,
Slaughter it, fool
Its grave it lands.

It wanted freedom,
Sought peace in its wings;
This bloody sparrow of dark,
But you destroy these things.

There was beauty in its life,
Its opaque world of pain,
You couldn't see this though,
So you made blood rain.