Answer:
Give it food and it will live, give it water and it will die.
Hold the tail, while I fish for you.
White bird, featherless, flying out of paradise. Flying over sea and land. Dying in my hand.
Searing 'cross the pitchΒ-black skies, I scream in celebration, Yet moments later, my outburst through, I am naught but imagination.
I look at you, you look at me, I raise my right, you raise your left.
What never gets any wetter no matter how hard it rains?