Hope Birds

Shots ring out, many are dead,
but still the birds fly, fly overhead,
cannons fire, smoke fills the sky,
but still the birds are there on high,
and still the birds of hope soar,
above the raging of the war,



but as the both sides draw near,
the birds disappear,
except for one,
so large it blots out the sun,
it is smothering and dark,
it is dread,
it is fear,
it is death,
it is here,



it has chased hope away,
well, not completely,
for one small bird of hope swoops back,
fighting the bird in black,
the two birds above,
the battle below,
too much death,
too much sorrow,



the small bird of hope opens its beak,
and sings out a sound so sweet,
the soldiers stop,
both sides look up,
the bird of fear is trailing ashes,
into the ground it crashes,
it gets up,
no longer corrupt,
it calls back to the bird of hope,
and flies away,
unafraid,



for the bird of hate,
is not so great,
if you respond in kindness,
and the soldiers watched,
as their hope birds came back,
and perched on their shoulders,



because hope is the bird that never leaves,
until it is let go,
and it will always come back,
if there is a reason for it to do so,
and the bird who saved them all,
came to rest on the shoulder of the small,
the drummerboy,
who is still drumming.