The Birdman and the Bug

Life, life!
The birdman cries,
Yet it is unattainable.
Life, life!
The birdman persists,
Yet his cries are futile.
His calls go unanswered, however,
He does have silent company.
There is life that exists among him,
Life that exists in a small, small bug.
In a trice, the bug is eaten,
By a bird.
A bird, a bird!
Could this be?
Could there be life that subsists?
No, for he, aside from a man,
Is the bird,
That ate the small, small bug.
What came over him,
Consuming the bug,
The solitary vestige of life?
But was that bug,
The mere remnant of life?
There must be more of that bug’s kind,
Somewhere.