Silver sleep ( a song of death ).

Love may rest upon a wing, and never aim to fly - but come by clouds a pillow cased before an open sky,

Once the eyes seek their refuge, and closing them would cever breath - only then the birds may come and sing a song of death,

For all the feathers brace the wind, and lightened skies know many trails - for the silver sleep by heart, such love it leaves the fine details,

And in the seasons of most tears, the greif and loss those birds do know - for all around would turn to winter,  begotten then with snow,

Ahh the light of heavens seems a long way for a bird to fly - but wings thereof an angels love,  may rest upon the sky.