Birds fly up above, beating black wngs. 

They sing sad song as if they know, 

As if they know the pain that comes from watching a friend sink beneath the waves.

Could they know? 

No. 

Never. 

The birds don't understand. 

They can never understand the fear that fills my chest like a cavity. 

They can never understand the feel of his fingers, grasping at my shirt. 

They can never understand the vacant look on his face as I pull him from the water. 

No.

The birds don't understand. 

They sing songs of a pain they will never know. 

They say a crow never forgets a face.

Will it rememeber the look on my face as I realise I've lost him? 

Will it remember the look on his face as he emerges from the water, lifeless? 

I know they will because so will I. 

I can never forget the last thing he said to me,

Or the way he looked at me, 

Or the last breath of air he took before sinking beneath the water.

The wings of a humming bird beat 75 times a second.

Now my heart beats just as fast. 

But his is still. 

Silent. 

As I drag his lifeless body from the water, all I can hear are the birds,

Singing songs of a pain they'll never know