They'll tell you how beautiful are your wings,

While they bind your pinions and strip your feathers.

"So graceful and so precious!  Such lofty, ethereal things,"

The words like rusty chains, cracked leather-sentiment tethers.

They'll tell you, "Rise above the sorrow, fly from the pain,"

After they teach you to clip your own wings so you won't fall,

And when the confusion sets in they'll be the first to tell you you're sane.

"People can't fly," they'll say, and point to the wings nailed to their wall.

A little bird in the cage,
A cage with invisible bars
getting dense with every passing second,
The more she tries to free herself, the more it bites on her skin,
leaving scars, imprinting her mind and soul,
The cage has thorn around it,
Getting sharpen with every edgy spell of her kinship
The more they do, the more sharp are the thorns,
the more they cut, the heavier she bleeds.
The more they misinterpret her shrieks,
The more her wings get shattered.
A helpless little bird in the cage,
Lies in the pool of her blood,
Trying to get out of unbreakable rage.

Beginning like a little egg, soon to hatch into a butterfly
we search for the way of the butterfly,
starting from the lowest phase slowly reaching the skies.

Butterflies are like us, they cannot see the elegance in their wings,
but everyone else sees their glorious emergence
in the likeness of winter to spring.

Like a bridge connecting two energies,
one is water and the other is fire.
Both form a steam,
two in one are gathered to roam around,
with the sun above drowning them in a stream of unity.

Rainbow arises, butterflies absorb its colors
spreading its waves across in every life,
foaming the surface in flowers.

We search for the way of the butterfly
that reaches the dawn of another day.

You pushed her so hard,
to fly as high as she could.
As high as the mountains,
as high as the stars.
You pushed her so hard,
though she can't,
till she fell and broke her wings.
Now, her broken wings
could never fly,
can't even reach the tree,
she always dreamt to be.

i was a soul whose life was all about
my own blood, flesh and bones.
i never indulge into your flight,
but you envied my sky
which was offer to me, to fly.
it was you, who compared
yourself to me.
then why you are blaming me
for your choices.
i was fine with my imperfections;
my demons and angels.
just because you couldn't
tackle your negativity,
you had no right to raise your finger
at me, as i never caused your problems.
when all i did was pass by
from your life.
i was a stranger to you.
yet you stabbed me with your
poisonous words.
shot me with your negativity.
cut my wings, by accusing me.
if you couldn't achieved your dreams,
why you killed my dreams?.
was i an easy prey—
or your failure hurt your ego!.

You always give me butterflies.
Won’t you take them away?
I find it nearly impossible to think when my heart is beating to the rhythm of their gossamer wings.
And it’s all because of you.

I want you to know
I tried my best.
Heart couldn't settle,
Mind wouldn't rest.

Angels and demons
Lived in my flesh.
Jealous of birds,
Able to leave their nest.

I want you know,
Next time will be better.
I'm probably gone
If you receive this letter.

He
Heard the voice calling in his heart
Grew his wings
Beyond the horizon he flies

There's no map of the skies
Nobody heard his cries
Lost forever in the mist
Of his mind

His way back he couldn't find
So he moved on
Fading into the colors of sunset
Nothing left behind