She lay on the forest floor in the soft moss
A bird of love struck down by a bird of pray
She could remember the long spiral down, it took a life time to reach the forest floor
As she fell a life less lived met her eye, as she watched other birds fly
The broken sparrow cryed as the day passed, for she knew she would never feel the wind on her wing tips again
Her crying was the most beautiful sound the forest had ever heard. A single piece of due fell from the canopy in tribute. The forest had shed a tear
Then the wolves came
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