The bird which will spend her life ,
Trying to navigate the pain.
Thats the thing it hurts to exist,
This bird is a walking memory ,
Of a life spent trying to find happiness .
Silencing demons inside its head ,
The scars of the bird are testament ,
To the swearing truths it dares not tell aloud .
The birds passion vibrated the earth
Destructing the equilibrium .
You could feel the ferocity in its earthquake .
Darkness isn’t ugly it believed
You know why ? I said no and the bird replied …
It holds a beauty of its own ,
A calmness of its own
I asked how do you know? The reply was
“I know cause darkness has been my friend since childhood “