Come Heavenly Bird....

Hey..., the birds in the heaven,
fly...., fly to the heights,
were there are no clouds made of cotton,
were there are hollows even,
in the most hard woods,
were there are trees with no roots,
were our life ended & began, in the oven,
of a mother, were every thing started,
come near the grave were all of us are lying,
next to each other, with souls departed,
were our little angels stand crying.

fly and come to the red soil,
were the bloods spill,
out on to the earth to fill
we never loved each other,
we loved only to kill,
even our own societal brother.

now she stands alone,
my daughter, on the ground,
weeping without any sound,
I could see her, though I've gone,
through my wandering soul,
only to my perceptions hole,
I killed only to die,
for the fight, only about lie.

by anu arvind nair

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