The sky was pitch black,
Clouds thundered with flashes,
The drops touched my wings distinctly,
I thought I'd lost my way home,
Then a sun ray cutting through the grey clouds,
Gave me a sense of direction.
My flying forward was hindered,
With the changing wind speeds.
But with time the dark clouds had cleared,
Painting the sky in a tint of red.
With another flap of wings,
I should've reached home.
But all I could see was a shattered tree,
In pieces were its branches on the ground.
I could've given up faith and go down,
Then what would be the difference from humans.
So instead took up the twigs from the broken nest,
To build a new one from the scratch.
This storm mutilated much of the nature,
But we never give up.
A reason why we're called that.
