Paper nest.

All the ash that simplifies a wing'ed warrior claimed defeat, neither had that war been won, nor love been cast upon complete,

ah the flames of migration who's bird had flow a million miles , in the current days situations for his longing smiles,

Parchment of the paper nest, the bird still sings a lullaby, and when the silent boughs all moan , it's time for him again to fly

Be that he would comfort knowing That home is where he lays a feather, neither worried for their love, or wildest hearts, nor even weather

Victory is in his constant stream of thought, although remains as though he's taught,

love defines the armoured heart, to vigar not the lonely host, although he knows the words of war, he coverts love the most.