By: Alec M. Bates
Blackbird sitting outside my window sill
as my defeated dreams are fleeting.
While even in this hollowed December chill
the Blackbird continues singing
As the heavy snowfall is never ending
the Blackbird is all I see
as it tis a dark contrast to the purifying
snow in which shall never leave me.
One day he shall leave me be
and fly away to the darkened void of the night
in which then I too shall hope to see
the ever glaring purifying light.
So Blackbird, my insidious guardian angel
what tis your lucritave angle