Never have I ever
Seen a nightingale
So close to this
Abandoned cell
Of mine. Do I let
Her sing or ask
The way out of
This cage of grieve.
Dripping some blood
The bird of dreams
Looks onto my chains
And flaps her wings
Through the bars
Her wounds and
Scars glistening
In that stubborn
Aura of freedom.
I hear her sing,
I sense her far,
Aren't you here too?
Or will you fly away
Just like I was meant to?
The bird of dream wakes
The slumbering pride
I once thought lost,
Grabbing at the chains
Again I stand here in
This cell of mine
Still alive with that sense
Of survival I thought of nigh.
