The birds have flown away, Their sweet melodies, no longer heard, Leaving only silence, in their wake, And memories, of the songs they used to make.

Their feathers, once so bright, Now lie in the dirt, a sorry sight. Their wings, no longer able to soar, A symbol of what was, and what’s no more.

The sky is empty, without their flight, A canvas, once so beautiful, now devoid of light. The wind carries whispers, of what once was, A reminder of the beauty, that’s now simply because.

The birds are gone, but in our hearts, Their songs live on, a work of art. Their memories, a source of comfort and peace, A reminder that beauty, can never truly cease.