A 'Heron'

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When you wake up and look out your window, you see this bird, all alone like a widow. You try to look deeper, only to see it get grayer.

You run down the stairs, past all of the chairs, in full speed. When you reach the ground you try to see through the weed. 

You put a foot in the mud, you become a half blood, one more and your bad blood. You push the reeds, for their are signs you need to read. 

Your alone, with no help. Only to notice the reeds become kelp.

Your underwater, with no air. It's all so bright you can't see your hands or your hair.

You take on step ahead, there's no support or gravity. Take another and your head feels like a cavity.

You feel the power and see the light, you smell the creed and hear the sun. 

You take one more step, and all is gone. You look to your right and see the Black Swan.

You look ahead and a bird is there. All grey and small. 

You blink for a second and it's very existence is truant.  

You look back and your in your room, you check your window it's still there. You run back down pass all of it again. Only to be back again.

You pray to God and for the bird's name you ask. Heron is the word, you get. 

Then he tells you, you've not seen all of it, yet. 

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