This pain on my wings, I got through falling down…
For once, I was the queen of my dreams,
For once I was proud of my wings.

Ask me not, where not did I fly, the garden, the mountain, the rivers the glittery town.

Over the cloud and close to sky, for once I thought, the world as my own.

What a pleasure, a history divine.
A love to life, a life not benign.

As of my proud, I flew through thunder, Oh! I fell down, as no wonder!

Falling high, my wings torn apart, hidden beneath the leafy blanket if nine.

As for now I can not fly, Can you guess, the pain of mine?

Watching others to fly and dance, I look above and begin to cry.

Though sometimes,
I question the cause; blame my vows.
But AM I A BIRD, IF DARE NOT TO FLY!

Mirth of fighting with the mighty wind,
Joy of singing with the rhythmic rain,
Way too worthy, than this lamely pain.

I might save my tears for late, if I fall again derailed.
But for now, I love, this sky;
I will start trying again.
AS FOR NOW, it’s wounded wing, BUT IT’S NOT AN WOUNDED BIRD…