In the darkness of the night a bird calls out,
Flying looking for its home,
The tree it flew from has been cut down,
The birds wings grow tired but it continues to look,
What fool chopped this tree?
It was me.
I swung with my axe and set the wood ablaze.
Only after did I realize that this tree had a soul.
The soul lives on and haunts me when the sun falls.
Echoing bird calls daunt my ears,
Feathers flash flaunting before my eyes,
Of all my faults, this is the greatest.
I could not see what was before me,
All of the love and soul in your eyes,
Passed me by, I realized late.
Now it is my fate to hold this heavy pain in my chest, full with guilt.
Bursting heart, a cloud heavy with water and nowhere to rain it down.
If it were still standing, the bird would make its home again in this tree,
Even if the tree has no leaves, even if the tree is bent and twisted,
The bird would bow at the sight of it.