In the air it listens
Carefully with a witty sense of awe
To the gunshot to fly faraway to escape
The meal plan of tonight.
Its wings it stretches
As a sign of freedom and happiness
While the wing slightly airs the leaves
Of the copse of fir trees that offers shelter.
A pitched sound it makes
As to angrily mean:
‘’At least vegetables understand,
Our right to live
Instead of being reduced to
As a mere instrument of sport.
Shot and kill
Then dinner have
God, humans are crual.”
Paterne Freeman Shadowriter, Lyrics of Revival, Poetry Volume
Photo Credit: Internet