SONG OF THE DEAD BIRD
She kept walking, kept travelling...
A Traveller by profession, she kept exploring.
With a pure and kindest heart inside her soul,
She was pretty easy to pick, easy to be fooled.
Her feet reached a small town,
Tired, she was happy to have it found-
And hoped for some water and food,
With her kind eyes, she now intrudes...
In a small village, with no roof.
She asked for some food,
If she gets, she will pay them good.
But All they did was to cry in front of her-
A pure soul, sang a song there,
Her heart couldn't keep up with the utter cries-
And she gave them what was with her, to see their eyes dry.
With everything given, she proceeded bareheaded and barefoot-
All she got was the happiness from helping those troops.
With sparkling eyes, she headed forward-
And saw an old lady, sobbing, cuddled up.
Not noticing the suspicious air around, she thus proceeded-
With nothing, but a body- bare and naked.
Didn't want to appear in front of others,
She ran to the nearby forest, in the southern.
She walked shivering, yet with kind gaze,
And met the forest demons, hungry and desperate.
She noticed, yet she smiled, as a mist.
She opened her arms, inviting them for the feast.
All she did was to help others, she did her job well, I guess.
In return, got nothing but more and more pleases.
She offered her arms, her limbs, her feet-
As she pitied the hunger of the demonic beings.
All that was left was her head, rolling around-
The last demon took out a kind eye and licked it, very much bound.
"Here is a gift from us demons" he said and flew away-
Leaving a piece of paper, leaving the one-eyed head for decay.
She rolled out her eyes, with the strength she had left with her-
To look at the gift the demon left as an honor.
'IDIOT!' it said, said the piece of paper...
Tears rolled from her eye; she couldn't feel more satisfied from her works.
"Thank you!" a mumble came from her mouth, and she smiled-
"It's my first return gift! Thankyou!" Were the last words that came from her mouth.
Her one-eyed head now rested for eternity, no more kind deeds to be done.
Ah, The cry! The song of the dead bird sure was a pitiful one.
Never heard a pure soul rest so peacefully in this world.
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Copyright © Md Sameer | Year Posted 2024
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