He swooped down,

sent from the Gods,

majestic bird he was

and  stole my soul.

 

The soul theif,

I call him,

he'd circled for sometime

and his fate,

laid in my hands.

 

He didn't stay long,

long enough to know,

he'd always be mine.

Then called away,

by his master,

he flew .

 

Empty,

I was,

till I heard a record on the radio,

'bloody valentine',

with mysticism,

I felt my soul flying home,

landing safely in my hands,

now I shall fly also.

 

19th March 2013