Unknowing lullaby.

Call the birds of blackest wing, the lonely shadows cannot sing, but thou the deepest part of the night,  lay temperd by the coming light,

Oh birds on feathers weary so, in part, the summer rain,  not snow,  found a place to nestle low , in the hollowed limb and grain, 

Won't the darkness turn to light,  even though the shadows might,  and face like tiny feathers worn, it is the light, that coming dawn,

Who dances with the days new breath 
For only shadows face their death 
On the eve of daylight so enhanced 
How well they glide,  how well 
They danced,

Ahh the birds of blackest feathers,  prance the halls and tap the windows closed and painted white, 

Only to pierce the veil and let in the light
Yonder and in present sight, the summer sun , who seeks to reign,  found their feathers taunt again, to fly, shrieking as they wonder by, an unknowing lullaby.