Spirit Of The Night

In a Tree Sits the Bird

In a tree sits the bird who carries my heart,

Spiritually deep, yet torn apart.

With echoes of laughter and memories bright,

A longing for moments that danced in the light.

It flutters through time, tracing paths once laid,

Through whispers of sorrow, in twilight's soft shade.

Each note a reminder of love’s gentle call,

In the stillness I ponder, have I lost it all?

"Keep my heart safe," I whisper with grace,

"Tell him I’m waiting in this sacred space."

"Dear little bird, let your wings take flight,

Whisk me away in the soft arms of night.

For love was a heartbeat, a rhythm divine,

In the shadows I linger, your spirit, still mine."

"Spirit of the night, little bird, bring him back to me,

He is mine, a bond forged in the stars, wild and free.

With each gentle flutter, let him feel my plea,

For in the depths of my soul, he’s always with me.

Guide him through starlight, weave paths through the dark,

Ignite the embers of our once-shining spark.