flappings of the birds
mystical on the top of the ground
that hides the past
i’m sitting
careless about the stories
buried underneath
why do these birds
fly restlessly
under the dome
like impatience
trying to spill out dark secrets
but it’s powerless
one, two, three
four, five, six
seven, eight
which one came before
which one the last
did they know each other
did they suffer
did for them anybody cry
soulless witnesses
i want to decipher the flappings of the birds
perhaps they’re telling me a story
perhaps they’re answering me
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