A bird flying against a dark sky.
Soaring over the shadowed trees.
Flying free into the whistling wind.
Not a care in the world, so free.
The man on the ground aims his gun-
at the black birds’ heads.
He fires, he fires another,
Then still another!
The once free bird falls to the cold-
Winter ground bleeding. His small-
fragile heart slowly beating, yet fast.
Slower, until it beats no more…
The cruel man laughs and walks-
Away, not realizing the giant-
Gun of God is pointed as his head!! …