Sparrows sing

It is a dungeon,
with a design,
of my own

grey is the sky
the earth is a sty
and the reaper is a spy

Chuckles and a rusty chain
a fire fountain
And it’s flaming rain

When words of a preacher,
deviate from a teacher
That, an oblivious future

man falls
heads on the poles
the names on the walls

sparrows sing,
A Raven’s flapping wing
The eye of the dying

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