I And The Tiny Bird Poem by Gil Gregorio

As I walk along the beach of sorrow
a tiny bird flew above my morrow,
the only thing's left and done
a lone footstep marked on the ground.
As I see the sunlight drew it limits
a tiny bird sang above its own zenith,
the only thing's left and shown
a lone footstep she marked on the ground.
Ah, this tiny bird hark like an eagle,
she blew a gaggled horn unscored;
it wiggled her feathers unfurled
she spread out her even wings cold.
Now, I have only one thing to reckon,
in my own lovely world of imagination,
the only thing's left for me is gone
inside a heart's hidden comprehension!
Now, I see no more than world's frictions,
my mind travels above certain wanderings
as the desert of woes called illusions
forgone's well in my own confusions!