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A Lonely Bird

While it has no flock,
Lonely bird still flies to south,
And its way finds no lock,
For its only interest is its very mouth,

Lonely Bird is certainly free,
To roam wherever it pleases,
And to be as it would like to be,
Minding no place, no brothers, no crisis,

None other than prey can be its hindrance,
For no predator can get it caught,
For its loneliness did enhance,
Its capability of not being sought,

For Lonely Bird wasn’t worth the effort
Of trying to be reached by any kind of sort,
For if there was a matter where it did excel,
Was to be enshrouded in a lone single shell,

Now this is a story with two sides of a coin,
For our bird here would do as would wish,
For if it wouldn’t have a group to join,
None would deny its weirdest fetish,

So we can conclude he achieved freedom,
And none in the world would take it away,
So it wouldn’t care for its mighty or wisdom,
It would have no one to perform any display,

But only it would be able tell at the end,
If being free of these things was quite the deal,
For when its death turns at state of impend,
None will care for what does it feel,

And will be that our bird,
That spend youth alone,
Will see if it really preferred,
To have made from the start an atone,

For when its existence goes to vanish,
Its marks on the Earth will be none,
And to avoid it it should had accomplish,
To start and have something done,
Because as soon as it meets a finish,
His memory wil be forever gone

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