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.
Jun 11, 2016
Jun 11, 2016 at 11:50 AM UTC
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.
I named him Kahini, the Bengali for story.
His partner died a few days back.
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