In the bright sunshine,
an angel was born in golden light,
away from the paradise,
but a wonderful delight.

The early days were pure and playfull,
like hovering clouds,
in the blue skies.

And wasn’t it happy and joyful?
to glide in the old farms,
to the sound,
beneath the gliders.

To the innocent little cry,
an act of warmth
or love,
was enough to make him fly.

But as he grew,
surrounded by his stew,
the world seemed like noises,
shouldering heavy poises.

But, he carried his flight,
inside his soul,
to be out of the sight,
and reach north pole.

The trail of the tail,
emit my screams,
Everytime the world stings,
I cry,
Please, don’t take away my “Wings”

~Kabir Malik
27th September, 2015