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Caged Bird

Caged Bird

“Why does the caged bird sing?”

“Take a bird and place them into a cage. Steal away everything they’ve ever known. Their freedom, their nest, their eggs.”

“Pull it away from them and seal it away behind wrought iron bars.”

“When you have nothing else in your life, what do you do?”

“Do you sit idly by and let it fester?”

“Peck at the bars aimlessly while the world passes you by?”

“The bird does nothing of the sort.”

“Instead, it begins to sing.”

“Despite being unable to act of its own volition, it settles back on all it has left and belts out high pitched squawks of pure agony.”

“It sings because it wishes one day to be freed from its confines and be allowed back in the world to fly again.”

“To see its nest, to nurture its eggs.”

“But no matter how loud and how long it sings, the bird will never truly be free.”

“For there will always be a cage around it keeping it locked away, begging for the freedom it shall never receive.”

“So why does the caged bird sing?”

“To trick itself into believing that freedom may come.”

“You sing a lot, Albert.”

“Though the songs you preform are not sung, but acted. You sing with your body as you slam your fists and head into all those around you, fighting and biting until you’re red in the face.”

“And why?”

“Because you believe that song of violence will grant you freedom.”

“From the confines of a wrought iron cell to the hands of BEG you have been trapped by one cage or another.”

“Even Nigel Royal trapped you beneath his thumb and forced you to sing for his very amusement against your will.”

“No matter where you go, you will never truly be free. You will always be but a song bird in a cage kept around for its beautiful voice. Your ravenous violence and powerful build only cause those around you to flock to you in droves.”

“Even BMF which seems to have let you free to see your nest, to nurture the egg that you call your son?”

“They too will shove you back into a cage when they need you.”

“Albie Shaw, you are a caged bird that will forever sing until your little heart gives out.”

“You can’t help it.”

“It is simply the fate of your reality.”

“And as you sing, I will happily sit by, watching your wings flutter in frustration as you stare down the metal bars that contain you.”

“And when your singing begins to grow dull, I will deal with you the only way I know how.”

“Efficiently.”

“I won’t free you, Albie. That is not my goal.”

“No, I plan to simply reach into the cage. Past BMF, past the bars, and wrap my fingers around that little neck.”

“Then crack.”

“Crush your throat and let you fall dead onto the cage floor.”

“Sing while you can, Albie.”

“For your path will soon come to an end.”