The little bird cried in the darkness
He cried, and cries, but nobody hears him
He is alone
He is the Solitary Bird

Hidden by a shroud of movement
He is scared, tired, and most of all, apart

Separated by more than physical means
By feelings, actions, and decisions
The invisible cage, ever-present, everlasting

Nobody can come to the little bird's rescue
It is him and him alone who has the key

All attempts are futile, for the closer you get
the more he locks himself up
He is the Solitary Bird

The little bird is never really alone
He, however is not aware of this fact

If he only would unlock his cage, letting the world in
He would be greeted with open arms
Embraced into the lives of others

But the Solitary Bird is afraid
Not willing to give up his solitude

And so he sits alone
In that world that he created for himself
Unable, and unwilling to come out

He is the Solitary Bird