Torn-Feather Eulogies

Oh, what a mess.
Torn-feather eulogies,
And a simple demand.
Cheap forgeries, a trickery
and an oustretched hand.
Tongue between teeth,
Lips gently parted.
A ruinous bequeath,
Meant for something not started.
Twilight, it seems
Is the lighting of choice.
Twilight in dreams
is the thief of my voice.
Oh, what a mess.
Torn-feather eulogies,
And an empty bed.
A belly full of malice,
And an unchecked head.
Eyes bushy-bright,
And the stomach a-churning.
Ready to fight,
But your loins are a-burning.
Darkness, it seems,
Is the cover of all,
Darkness in dreams,
Will precede a fall.
Oh, what a mess.
Torn-feather eulogies,
And words left unspoken.
A fall-silent room,
And a heart left unbroken.
Torn-feather eulogies,
For the flightless and strong.
They may be groundwalkers,
But at least they're not wrong.
Torn-feather eulogies,
For the birds in my brain.
They may all have roosted,
But they sing in the rain.