Analysis of The Birds

Some mornings at first light
after the birds take flight from their nests
I listen.
I hear their songs of melancholy love
of sorrow and pain and,
I wonder.
What happened to the sky so blue
but, now a shade of grey.
What happened to the sun and rain,
because now
I see
only the anger of a destroyed world,
were war and blood run free,
freer than the wind used to blow.
I smell
only the ashes and smoke that fill the air
not the grasses and flowers that once covered the ground.
I know
the birds are all that are left of the world I once knew
but even now in their song I can feel them slowly losing their life and their soul
turning into the living dead that inhabit the world today