Them are the lost wings
of the birds unknown,
to the world captivated
inside the human consciousness.
Stretched all along the bones and brains,
conspiring to be released, setting themselves free.
Frightened yet devious enough
to unsettle the long met arrangements.
What stealth them, Then
Restored them, why?
Now the freedom is monotonous,
as if watching the left out versions,
Of the breeze felt, the greens sought,
the songs sung
lands fought …
Everything is the same
Every time, the same ….!!
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