The Bird

Following the stupefying sensation of my heart I take a long and high flight With the wings of self-deception. Having some kind of foolhardiness, I fly in search of green fields Leaving behind the dreary desert To sing sweet songs of life. The warnings of my Prudence, To stay with my other mates, go unheeded. The green fields once Where I yearn to reach Turn into the burning flames With deadly smoke That chokes my throat And darkens my vision. And I, no more able to fly, Fall into the lap of disillusionment. Wings are fully burnt And burnt I am from within. Sobbing at the impulsiveness-my Achilles’ heel- With a sigh, waiting for the last breath, I close my eyes.