A little bird flew about
In search of water during drought.
High and low it roamed thirsty,
New water mongers it saw,
Where chirps weren't enough to buy
Who asked for its feathers in return.
Bones and coins, the signs of life left,
Fleeing away it saw grey clouds of hope,
Turned the corner, only to see it was smoke,
Smoke of the flames of its Godly sacrifice.
A little bird flew above,
Out of its misery into the rains.