The storm lingering on the branches.
It’s lazy as it flows.
Stumbling upon my own stance,
The storm inside is howling.
As the venom bubbles, it hurts.
Need some smoke to end it.

As I see the birds circling and soaring
I wonder, if they are free and liberated.
As they fly around the wild bushes and among delicate flowers.
Maybe, they just pretend to be free.

Maybe they fly freely just to inspire humans.
Yes, Us! we all see them flying.

But another thought jingles through my senses,
maybe their flying doesn’t inspire us, anymore.
Maybe they just show off their liberty.

And humans burn in every single instance.
If not all of us, but most of us do.
For those who don’t, Can’t you see?
the leaves fluttering in the breeze.
Or do they not see, people dying from inside.

Gently and gradually, draining all desires.
Extracting every drop of life from within.
Yes, they don’t see but they will.
One day when it’s their turn.
or maybe they already played their turn
and now they just ignore…!


Note: Did a post after weeks! Sigh. Really missed my WP family. this is a piece I unintentionally wrote. 

Happy Saturday, Cheers !