Thy Spark Is True

Upon a stormy night there lies a winged creature nestled in her home. The forest sings a solemn song as her wings begin to crack, the misty eye begins a deafening cry.

Her nest starts to crumble and wither,
Her space begins to rumble and shiver,
Never has she known a nest so fine,
Never has she been a bird to shine.

She does not know the light begins within,
She looks outside as her life begins to thin,
She looks for the shine with her own two eyes,
She lives in a space feeling confined in size.

To remedy the broken nest she ought to look where the eyes cannot see. The eggs shall need a place worthy to thrive, lest broken lives they will always be.

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