I Killed a Bird in Flight

I killed a bird in flight, what were we meant to be?

Nothing, shadows, fleeting echoes, lost within the breeze

Silence cuts with empty sorrow

Better nothing, than a future filled with fear of tomorrow

Drifting feathers torn asunder, trapped in daily strife

You have work, and I have studies, separate worlds, separate life

Would we last without ambition, if our dreams began to fade?

Would you still drink wine alone in the home, where love decayed?

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