I lay at peace
in this warm dawn sun.
Birds sing of love
before battle is begun.

Perfectly held
cocooned by folds of land
in the life line
of a universal hand.

But death mounts
the horizon with the sun;
violence, blood rises,
it will be begun.

I throw off the warmth,
of my bundled feather down;
kissed by a cool breeze
as I cast my gaze around.

Terror rains
from the sky on either side
with no escape
from a surging tide.

. 

But yet, and yet, a bird still sings his love;
harmony, as if he will find it.
And there's a song in my heart,
but I will die behind it.

I will fight,
and I will fight,
so that I might live to find it.