Broken humanity will often falter,
As it ponders which mold to fill in,
Ponders what it must alter,
Which path it must begin.
It is a trembling, cowering bird that hides
Within each of our hearts,
Somewhere in a dark corner it abides,
Made up of many broken parts.
We have the role of nursing the bird,
Bringing it back to its purest condition,
There is a fire that must be stirred,
A stunning, unbridled and pure rendition.