A bird sang loud and let the moonlight in
Its melody was silver
Illuminating the darkness of my skin
As I lay my head back
Against the wall
It sung its song
Not sweet
Simply chilling
Almost like the cold metal springs beneath me
It came through the bars
That held me in
High up
Secluded and Deprived
Of every living thing
But this bird which brought me sanity
There were no trees or branches or a window sill
Still it sang loud letting the moonlight in
It rushed into my head
Streaks of music
Long and thin
Lighting the lonely walls of the dying room
The same walls that seem to be my mind
The bird sang quiet
The moonlight died