I was sitting on the bank of time
My Anglican church had shutted its chime
Closed its shimmering doors,
The tempest was invading the moors

But I was alone, for the winds were gone
Black dots on skies, green clouds, sweet fumes
My heart dropped as I saw, like a lighning of colour
One doyel bird shot by a ray of temper

I was sitting alone, sat on the brittleness of mercy
My heart dropped, as I saw, the doyel bird had an injury
It’s been nearly two decades I saw him nearly die
The sight of his broken heart still makes me cry

Traveller, trust me these lines are written in the salt
Of my eyes, for I’ve been thinking about it ever since, my only halt
Were his smile, his hopes, his dreams, but I shall not speak
About loving a bird when thousands ‘r getting bleak

The sun has stroked my back since
I left Westminster Abbey thinking of an advice
Sour past had given me : never surrender
Never let the shores of sadness take over

Let poetry instead cover the landscapes of greed
Let hope, ambition, madness stop the daily bleed
For a doyel but made me once understand
That we are all doomed souls, but doomed souls that can stand

I was sitting on the bank of beauty
It had closed its unclean doors, my monastery
I was sitting alone, then the doyel bird was long gone
My heart suddenly dropped as I saw a lighning of colour again

The dahlia laced in my heart tears of whool
I thanked the doyel for letting me in his soul
What can I do for you passerine light,
How can I help the clouds of birds like your sort

Regain the skies that always close their doors
Like England close its heart on the moors
How can we let poetry cover the landscapes of greed
Let hope, ambition, madness stop the bleed ?

For a doyel but made me once understand
That we are all doomed souls, but doomed souls that can stand
But I was alone, for the winds were gone
Black dots on skies, green clouds, sweet fumes