Peeking through a gilded cage
Which is but young in age
I yearn to touch the blue of skies,
But held back by the noose of vice.
I sob to taste the drops of a spring
For I thirst only for it, or nothing.
I beg but for a gust of breeze
So that my dying gasps may ease.
But I knew not of these desires till
I saw a crow have these to his fill.
The coarse black plodded across the sky,
And croaked hoarse to breathe and cry,
But he was free to sip and taste
All, be it pure water or lowly waste,
He flew where he wished to go,
Be it the West, or the land of snow.
A gorgeous black sigil of bravery was he
Who stoked the flames of rebellion in me.
Shackled by Despair and guarded by Fear.
Were thousands like I, in cages far and near,
Yet none were unhappy, nor longed to be free,
Being safe was enough for them, not me.
For long I pondered on what is to be done,
Freedom, or safety, which do I shun.
But a strange sight did I see
When I prayed hard to be free.
The cage was turning into mortal dust,
While Fear and Despair cried and cursed,
Scalded by my euphoria did they flee
Finally, I was unbounded, ecstatic, and free,
Soaring into the azure, I could finally be
One with Nature, and yet be me.