Dark winged and flighty, elegant as ink
writing in a holy book. Starving now
as food falls in hard times; fast as they blink.
Flying high, as fast as their wings allow -
head to the stars, the sun, far from the stink
of the famine - fly strong and disavow
the darkness as it quivers and now slinks.
Carry the song forth and sing out your vow!
Lead the song chorus of the feathered beasts
of this strange world I do not understand.
Take the wings aloft and sing of the feasts
that will come as all joy has all been planned.
Courage, truth, joy - holy as any priest
they will now take your wings across the land.