Deep from the valleys croon the macaw so rare,
Beckoning life through the endless glare,
The crimson red and the blue spill out,
Only to build up the mystic doubts.
Eyes closed shut, I refuse to see,
For the light blinds the delirious in me,
I wait for the embrace warm and tight,
But have I dreamt long asks my soul in flight.
I can see it shimmering bright,
Notwithstanding my eternal fright,
The soul I thought was a thing I owned,
Flew graciously towards the distant drone...
Trapped in a haze, the frenzy of town,
I strive to live or rather drown,
The milieu merciless pardons none,
Bequeath the soul and you are for done.
I cry out aloud, for I need to succeed,
The dominances assure me the need to please,
My soul flies far from land,
Along the crimson - golden band..
Desire is bound within the trammels of my heart,
Success and fame burns in the flames of the eyes,
All I need is my soul within,
To unleash them and prevail in mirth no thin..
Alas! the soul in search of the macaw,
Follows the euphony in ecstacy and pride,
The soul returns when the prize is found,
Say the wise long and sound...
I stop calling and I wait along the shores..
I know my soul will rest and return evermore,
Once loved, fed and reposed as it merits,
My soul shall regress to triumph all the more...