
They say birds need Hollow bones to fly--
It makes more sense as years pass by.
The place I used to hold so dear
How did it get so lonely here?
Sunshine bright just hours ago.
I turn around, friend calls my name. But somethings wrong.
It all has changed.
Flashing once.
Gone again.
A lighthouse beacon burning bright. Then nothing there -- inky black, empty night.
Now cold wet grass
Beneath my feet.
The crickets sing.
Fire is out.
Sea and sand churning fast, the light perhaps... flashed again?
No. I know it cannot be for this birds bones must come from me.
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