Born a cherubic birdie in the sulfurous times of the world;
Uprose it apace, needing to wing as high up as it could.
Autographed an unavowed tiny pipe dream on its wings;
Fingered glad and unassailable in its plumy little things.
Lightning wracked its comfy nest, in a doomed night storm;
Soaked up is the adult bird, whose feathers kept the birdie warm.
Stomached all the torment, the invalided birdie unable to fairly fly;
Squalled staidly, looming that its ciphered dreams would sure die.
Clock elapsed in haste and its fellow birds cut and ran their way;
Palpated the peril, as lonesome, it was highly unwieldy to stay.
Barbarous were the winds of world and tattered was its rest;
Swamped in icy rain, the birdie flapped in vain for its life’s quest.
Piloted in, a browny bird, cloaked in cleverly as a feathery friend;
Promising the birdie that its conked out wing, it would try to mend.
Banked the birdie, browny’s parole more than its one and only wing;
Reckoned the birdie, perching atop the maple tree, it could happily sing.
Days slipped away and bleached out were the birdie’s rainbow dreams;
Deplumed it was on each sun’s ascent, while curbed were its screams.
Long time glided by and little by little hushed up were its endearing songs;
Was cast off its nest remorselessly and browny abided others’ wrongs.
With breached wings and shriveled up heart, the birdie sighed in rain;
Calling God into question, “Feeding me pain, what did you gain?
If pronounce you that entrusting someone wholly, is my offence
Then how can I trust that you would someday speak in my defense?”
Pathetic to fly into the sky, wretched to die, hobbled the birdie all alone;
Chancing difficult to retrace the onetime path it took, too far it has gone.
Wings were irredeemably broken and its faith was terribly shaken….
In this unkindly world….will it survive even when everything is taken?
Image Courtesy: http://www.sweetestofnightmares.deviantart.com
Like this:
Like Loading...
Strings of Soulfulness 