[ There's a pause on his part, a moment where the sadness on his face isn't entirely due to the mask of grief he wears. But then, without further answer, he begins to play. The sounds ring out in the empty space, caught on nothing but silk and webbing.
A song spills from him, not the sort he would normally write or sing, but a song befit of a fairytale, and born of it too. ]
Darling, I am weary, for you see I've travelled far In all this time of wondering where you are I heed all that you carry, knelt within your palace gold Between the bars your wings never unfold
You've sung for the weeping, The kind and harsh souls too, You sing for me so sweetly but, does so no one sing for you?
Songbird, songbird, Who sings for you? Do you know the feeling of the sky The depth so brilliant blue...
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A song spills from him, not the sort he would normally write or sing, but a song befit of a fairytale, and born of it too. ]
Darling, I am weary, for you see I've travelled far
In all this time of wondering where you are
I heed all that you carry, knelt within your palace gold
Between the bars your wings never unfold
You've sung for the weeping,
The kind and harsh souls too,
You sing for me so sweetly but,
does so no one sing for you?
Songbird, songbird,
Who sings for you?
Do you know the feeling of the sky
The depth so brilliant blue...
[ And he sings on. ]