Sweat drips off my beak 

The dreams returned to me

Holding him in my arms

He’s elected for his last breath. 

He mutters he’s sorry 

And then he is gone. 

I carry him to his grave,

a single daffodil, I lay

His one human life is now done. 

No more sunrises, no more chances for change. 

Should I feel bad for him after he set me ablaze?