The Lonely child is a worrying sight
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As he sits studying a worm in the mud
Not looking for a love denied
Life is simple like the sun that shines through blueberry leaves
The moon goddess that calls his name at night
The Hermit child grows, talks less and less
The reason why, you can only guess
He knows it well, though never confess
Through the incarceration of youth
He can do nothing, but close his eyes
Imagine riding that griffon through the endless skies.
Some days he thinks of that and cries
And now, A man no less
He sits behind his polished oak desk
His tears dried, he can no longer hear
The voice that guided him throughout the years
Until his final breath of life
He feels a tingle, like a shiver inside
And there he is, perched on the very tree
His Little Bird!!! how can it be!!
Its been too long , Oh Lord please help
As it sings a song, the old man so dearly held.
It takes him back to that sunny day
When the bird appeared in the same peculiar way
And as it sang , he laughed, the bird flew
The Mysteries of the world, the boy just knew.
His soul meets the infinite blue