Stricken down
A bird shot in its flight
Cramped in a swing
One breath
One sigh
With glassy eyes
I die.

Into the loving dust I lay
My flesh washed back home by the rain
I seep through vines
And intertwined
I breathe again.

No longer is the sunshine warm
No longer am I free to roam
To soar alone in skies up high
I never was afraid to die
Yet here I lay

No longer can I sing and tell
I told so good, and sang so well
That passers-by would stop and heed
And nod and would impart my creed
Walking away

I think of things my elders told
I was so young, yet ageless old
My very blood, my feather’s shine
Were yours, Forefather, they were thine
Gifts for the bold

Why did your bullet seek my heart?
What joy may I now still impart
Now that my blood taints red the snow
Why did you shoot that hateful blow
What made you start?

And yet I’m free, but you are tied
And you can’t run, nor can you hide
Your deed is done, your hands are stained
You may forget, but blood remained
Marked on a sheet of space and time
Some day, your blood will flow as mine
That day, your debt will be erased
No longer will you wander crazed
With pain unknown.