The Song of the King of Sparrows

Down on his luck there lives a bird,
Behind a cage built high,
And only a glimpse of heaven sees,
A sparrow flying through the sky.

“Oh, Brother mine,” calls he to caged,
“I fly, whilst you cannot,
You have not wings with which to spread,
Damnation you begot.”

For his call, forever more,
Shall touch the heavens high,
King of Sparrows, is it he?
For only he is free.

“Oh, sibling mine,” returns the bird,
Our days are numbered nigh,
For shallow graves, we all shall fill,
Never knowing why.”

“And so you live,” answers he,
Not knowing how to be.
For those that value liberty,
Are those that shall be free.”

For his call, forever more,
Shall touch the heavens high,
King of Sparrows, it is he,
only truly free.

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