Loneliness is now upon his throat

I know it for sure
What ails him hasn't a cure
He's shrinking like a sinking boat.

On the perch a plumed pain
He's lost without a care
Tells the vacant stare
Dooming into a never regain.

Death is an easy height to scale
When life remains to grieve
Without any incentive
As love retires to a dark well.

He's fading in the lost glory
And I know it for sure
What's killing him has no cure

My budgie called Story.