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This diary entry is written by The_Great_Disaster. ( View all entries )
 
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RPTCategory: (general)
Tuesday, 10 July 2007
06:29:01 AM (GMT)
Somewhere far over this forsaken land,
flew the bird of Paradise, with knives in its wing.
It once liked to wander and sit in my hand,
but now only has enough strength left to sing.
it sings of the coming of happiness, life,
it sings of the return of care for the world,
it sings of the coming of Darkness and strife,
that we have to get over for fate to unfurl.
Its feathers, now ruffled, once gleamed with bright light,
It's beak, once graceful, is dented and dull.
Its eyes, now lifeless, once danced without fright,
But now it has drifted into Death's sweet, sweet lull.
Somewhere far over this forsaken land,
flew the bird of Paradise, with knives in its wing.
It once liked to wander and sit in my hand,
but now only has enough strength left to sing.

Comments 
lol says:   10 July 2007   217729  
YAY!!!! so sad... and well- written!
 
The_Great_Disaster says :   14 July 2007   719823  
very sad...I'm sorta a hippie!...SAVE THE EARTH! and all of that....
THANKS!!!
I think I could of done better than "knives in its wing"...that sounds
really weeird......
HII MANDY!!!!

 
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