Do I know the futility of words
Unfortunately I do
To speak and yet be unheard
Much as the thorn bird knows it's destiny
So does the heart
To be speared upon the very branch of which it thrived
Always in silence
Not once has the sound of resolve been heard
As solemn as the flight of wild wings
Do I understand this
No, I do not
All that I feel
In that silent space within
Is the pain of the dying bird
Wings that no longer beat
As destiny claims her stake
My heart falls victim to her snare
Upon the branches of the vine
Speared and spilled
My love like blood
Bleeds from a wound that none can see
Under the disguise of natural causes
I die before your eyes
Hoping with my failing strength
In the silent space within
You felt it too
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