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Flitting heartbeat, sparrow high,
twisting round the mountain's eye,
tracing breath of shattered skies
and filling velvet palms.
Falling sparrow, cry of stone,
wings of mist and powder bone
sipping, slipping from thy throne
within their crimson throng.
Treading now, beneath the clouds
As what was once so heaven bound
now falling, falling, to the ground
And singing silent songs.
Fly no more, above the arcs
singing side thy fellow Larks
curl beneath their shadows dark
and sing your silent songs.
Your flitting heartbeat, Sparrow high,
now sings of silent songs.