The black birds are after me again. Big, stupid birds, following me to places unknown. This is a loyalty of the unwanted kind, a wicked friendship. I have written endless lines about opening the windows and setting them free, yet they do not seem to be leaving anytime soon. Is this a forever for us? In a world where nothing is forever, the black birds are following me to the grave. There is a death in them, and in me, a forever – could it be?
Nesting in my fingernails, they are. Feeding on my soul and my control, taking every crumb away. They seem to be hungry today, and tomorrow, and always. They seem to calm me, in a way. There is a shadow in them, and in me. No time for agony, there is no escape. Only empty hopes.
Clapping their wings together, they trap me in other realities, not letting me go until I am shattered. They manage to lure me into the ugliest of places, every time anew. I do not put up a fight. No, most of the time I do not even try. I am being owned, powerless, kneeling in front of their majestic presence.
Together we fight wars. I am an ally and an enemy; I am a knight and a dragon. This has always been clear, yet I keep wondering if I am real. Can they take my existence away if it is not there? Stupid birds, following familiar faces to foreign places, stumbling on words.
Until the end of times they will be anticipating my great fall. Yes, the one which they watch over and over again, without stopping. With sharpened beaks and proud claws, they will sing a song. They will summon a wave to sink me. A shallow puddle which is my life, it is turning into seas and sometimes oceans – ones that I cannot touch or experience. They hide behind the glass, unreachable and glorious.
I am ready for battle. I am waiting for you.