Hello songbird creature of flight, what brings you here on such a woeful night.
Destined with powers to soar all around yet you sit and not make a sound.
Can it be that you are ill or just waiting for time to spill?
What can trouble such a mortal being, so small and fragile, you must be asleep.
Yet your eyes are wide awake, staring emotionlessly into space.
No other reasons seem to shine to explain the state of the songbird’s mind,
perhaps the only conclusion left is that maybe the songbird is dead.