II
Beware of the Fowler's Snare
A tree has fallen
An ancient tree has fallen
Woe to the birds 
Now cast adrift, destitute
Their keening wails piercing the dusk

See how slyly
The serpent’s mouth curls and hisses
As it slithers towards the homeless birds
Mistake not, O bird
Its eloquent song of lament
For the grief-stricken wail it pretends to voice

Oh, how voracious the serpent
Its venom in the ready 
As it eyes the flailing fledglings
See not the flicking tongue, O bird
As the commiseration it smoothly feigns

Oh, how swiftly
The scheming serpent coils 
Its jaws agape for the fragile, abandoned eggs
Trust not, O bird
Its sinuous sway
It’s not the solicitude it masquerades as

Beware of the trap
The fowler’s cruel snare
Woven with guile to bind the lost