The lights upon my house at night shine through walls of my homemade hell. Thunderstorms and spirits cry as I weep in tune to a forgotten lullaby. The schreech owl sits perched upon a tree whispering songs of my history. I sit down to listen, he flies away and I am left alone. Alone in my cage I watch the night; the moon and stars that shine so bright. They call to me with silent voices as I stand dying without a home.