To him
I am just
A discolor forest
A vulnerable mountain
A singing bird
In the golden cage
To me
He is
The sweet venom
The tragic mystery
The universe
I can never get
Enough of
To discover

Four seasons,
but
only winter he loved,
When
he let the coldness
caged in his heart
set free,
disguised as
the cold December winds.

With no strings attached,
his stray heart
flew carelessly & free,
every day perched on a new tree.
Until his heart
found a cage-
he called it love.

It's been asked before
But nevermore
Why does the caged bird sing?

He's been locked away
No sight of day
Why does the caged bird sing?

His vision's blocked
Out of sight, he's locked
Why does the caged bird sing?

No soul to hear
His voice so clear
Why does the caged bird sing?

But oh how his song
Is out of tune, it's wrong
Why does the caged bird sing?

Maybe what he sings
Isn't what it seems
Maybe it's only screams.

Just like many people,
It's painful for me to look inside,
but yet it comes to me as second nature,
Past so cruel, chewing on my mind,
Like wild coyotes on the weak flesh of chicken.
I look behind me so far it feels like the distance
should take hours to walk,
but if I simply reach out my hand,
I can easily touch it, embrace it, and reject it.
I want to act like that was not me,
but there is nothing that possessed my feet,
to walk in that direction,
that direction that fades into dark like a movie scene.
My past works me like a seductress,
Curling my own finger until I give in and embrace them.
I always look, and I always see me, remember that it's me,
but I always come to a nice little realization,

I am me,

I've changed from then,
ways no longer remained the same,
just like so many people, I changed,
but it's painful to look away,
And it comes to me like first nature.
I constantly compare,
hearing the thoughts that belong to me and myself
dark torturous thoughts,
****, violence, ******, intricate torture, Shameful acts that should not be spoken of.
.......calm, a need to calm, a present tense feeling that gives me control......

I often consider,
which side is more real,
and which one I should use to define me,
Which do the people close to me,
feel more comfortable with, though,
the answer to that comes quick.
But if I hide these thoughts,
these thoughts I force myself to believe are the past,
Such suppressed thoughts,
Which one becomes the hypocrite?
To hide a part of me and act like the opposite this "past",
to act like the opposite of me?
Or would it be hypocritical to act myself, the me I want to be,
and fight the rest of me to be?

I promise myself,
that one day,
                            I'll get over you

That after that day,
                           You won't haunt me.

That after that day,
                            I'll be free.

The cage I locked myself in,
It'll be open

The best part is,
I won't lock myself in there again.

Illusions, surreal as they come;
Embraced a newfangled tangent;
When he strode in like a lightning,
And eluded like a star so distant.

The time with him around,
Have become fragments of me.
Manifesting into little chunks,
And etched in doting memory.

Prayers fail me even as I vainly try
To seize that moment of bliss
While I watch him in rapture
Let myself want to passionately kiss

I have a confession to make, I am
Guilty of an unblemished sensation!
Of adoration, desire and superlative love
A feeling so poignant I felt with none

I want to clinch it and make it my own
But I must be a fool to cage the breeze
So I will seek solace in my musing
By writing ballads like these!

~~
Classic words, True,
Yet divine
But inhumane activities growing
The flowers are trampled yet again

There is a magic
Where a group of people who have been in search of food
In the desert
And they are true, but stupid!!

Octopus builds a Camouflage
Not only for the trap
But also they proved to finesse
And we are quickly going to lose the road

They made my fortune
Even God can not change their minds
When they are laughing loudly
Even who could **** the birds in the cage
~~
@ Musfiq us shaleheen