I was sitting a my desk, my task is to write,

the time was about, the dawn of the night

A tapping sounded from the sill, 

before it fell silent, ever still

I walked to the window, seeing a lark.

" Well, isn't that stark?

What is your name, little lark,?

Come inside and let us see,

But what will the outcome be?"

For now this lark sits on my hand,

ready to concur any of the lands,

But the lark is not caged, 

And I not a mage,

But still I call my birdie Sage

( A/N I DON'T EVEN KNOW?)