A canary in a golden cage
counting down it's shackled days
stills it's wandering wings
The lark sublime makes holy ground
where air and beak but make a sound
and stills the souls of men
With dappled yellow feathers pied
the bird makes melodies that rise
to still the heart of God
The gilded cage is carried low
down and down and down they go
as shadows longer,larger grow
The carrier descending deep
as silent stillness creeps and creeps
the bird is watching wondering
What place is this where no light shines
no breeze descends deep in a mine
what aire can darkness make?
The miner sits upon a mound
made by men as dying ground
where secret spells are cast
He sets the cage down at his side
and waits to hear the song subside
this cave now their domain
The yellow bird with laboring breast
heaves and sighs to find it's breath
but broken hearts don't sing
The silent knell is deafening
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