Blackbirds Moonlight Serenade

The swoosh of his flapping wings entice the silence of where death rests
Spirits in wait, for a visitor to visit this sorrowful place
Headstones carved with names and dates, one with a quote by Yeates

“But I, being poor, have only my dreams; I have spread my dreams under your feet; tread softly because you tread on my dreams”

Where are now, the dreams of yesterday? gone, long and forgotten
Chose a path that led to those dreams buried with the dead
To ash, the return of dust to earth, kept in a casket made of wood

Fly Blackbird Fly, spread across the moonlights smile
Cast a silhouette, may it leave the dead beguile
So dreams may continue to inspire


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