weary eyes open and scan the plain familiar cell
what is it but another day in hell
orange and black he's grown accustomed to
yet what are those unlikely beautiful sounds, not one, not two, not three, but four
that ring through the impenetrable cage door  
the prisoner's friends come to the door with key in hand
the friends chirp words of after escape, tales of seas, skies, and lots to eat
yet surprisingly the prisoner says no
the bird in the cage does not want the sweet release of the cage yet still yearns for the one set out in death
a bird no more remains, but a slave to sing when ordered until its final breath