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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1232834
The birds of mourning are singing for me.

The birds of mourning
are calling my name.
Not singing of sweet mornings,
but singing of shame.

I hear them singing
their now distant songs.
What once was pure gleaming
is now full of hatred and wrongs.

The birds of mourning
are singing for me.
I hear their scorning,
urging to flee.

Their once sweet voices
now turn to a sad twitter,
Providing me with choices,
all sounding so bitter.

They are forlorn,
voices so sad and full of dismay.
The birds that mourn
are flying away.


-Leah
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