Feathers Lyrics

A raven soon cold and tired
Perched on a fragile branch
Scrutenizing night's firmament
Almost swaying and falling.
An ill and ghost tree
Risen in this ice desert
Is now getting old
Is now getting weak.
Feathers dance with winds.
Lieves abandon the tree.

Spreading his wings
Little black bird
Is flying far away
To another home.

Samuel Alves, mai 2010