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