The sparrow falls from it's lofty home,
It's sweet song never to be heard again.
I remember, when it first awoke,
And sang to the morning light.
It's song so happy and so bright,
I thought my heart would burst.
Over time, it's song began to fade.
It lost the wonder of that first day,
And in turn, lost the wonder of it's life.
Now, as I watch the small creature,
It's black eyes slowly dimming,
I realize that it was not the elements,
That killed this thing.
Rather, it was the loss of love,
And the absence of being needed.
And how true, even in our own lives,
Do we begin to feel dead and detached when
Those we love turn away.
When life holds no meaning, and we sing to
the wind,
Then we too shall fall to the ground,
Sing our last song,
And die.
