Equivocality

Little Bird

How come you always soar higher?

That I always wanted to inquire.

Garbed in your little green attire,

Your eyes always burn like a wildfire.

You presence is angelically purifying,

Your soul appears as if undying,

And you keep on always flying,

Even though you're always crying.

You aim to reach the grandiose space,

That place of stars and grace,

Where Gods have their celestial resting place,

Why are you in a constant race?

Can't you see the pain you create?

On your shoulders - a constant weight.

Cease your mindless chase and wait,

This is yet to be your final fate.

At the end of it it's your muse,

Singing the most beautifully blossomed blues,

Yet on your wings you sport a bruise,

Alas, the time has come to choose.

Will you bear through terrible pain,

Or will you turn clean through rain?

Will every fragment be in vain,

Or will the darkness be slain?

Despite your meager looking size

You're on the chase for the ultimate prize

And even if your frail body dies

Your pure spirit shall arise.

Never give up,

- J. G.