I am a bird, made of glass.
Light as the pillowy white clouds,
But all the while, ironly steadfast
The shackle of sin, by which I am bound.
Fragile as I am,
and graceful as I come,
you must understand,
my song will remain unsung.
Not by the unspoken daring of a hero
but by the fear of a coward, shrinking into the shadow.