I am a cage in search of a bird

 

There's a hut at the edge of town , the doors are wicked ,old n dark brown 
The isolation rules the sun , the dark is on the run 
He is old nd weak just from a weak 

Spells upon the cursed land ,he is in need of some stranger's hand 

By far the efforts go in vain ,all the people are insane 
waiting for the sun to come through the creaky glass window ,he sit serenly with a barrel of rum 
He has seen 
He has seen things , wicked tormant things 
He knows the plans nd whatever stands and whatever shatters ,He knows them all

That is a desperate land
he is a lifeless man melancholic and sad joyous and mad 
he is a living dead 
He is a killer
killer of his dreams , the aspirations the fantasies he made the efforts were never paid 
He woke up , walked down the stairs with a bewildered head headed to the room 

The room of the dead
The roses upon bed fall like the rain from heavens
he stood there for a minute nd then he walked on down the hall
Chasing things 
miscible things in his head mingling creating chaos 

Approvals and contradictions run between the head , the heart n the mind 
the present him , the one left behind nd the coming forward 
standing tall nice but small
and than he said 

This is the end beautiful friend 
i'm the killer of "the mocking bird" (his mind) and he said 
i'm here to set u free being the thing u will never follow me 
forget the desperate land
forget the stranger hand 
this is the beginning but this is also end 
perhaps this is the beginning of  beautiful yet messed up end ................