Breaking the calcareous prison of life,

She doesn’t know where to go,

To the blue sky or the chef’s knife

She stands straight with all her might

The confused, bald, fragile creature

struggles to open its grey eye.

A few blinks and everything is clear

The eye moves to and fro, far and near

In search of someone to wipe its tear

But there’s no one to come.

The stars hear a cry

“Who am I? Where am I? ”

The air is startled, the seas are shocked

But there is no reply

It’s all empty, it’s all dry.

Nobody, no answer, no response

Like a dead ox with rotting horns.

But, there’s a hope

The deep, divine, mysterious echo,

Diverging from cracks and plains,

Tearing apart clouds and rains

Like a Samurai’s sword.

Pinches the soul of the young

Anonymous to the living junk.

The bird sets on its voyage,

To hunt for the echo

Unaware of time and age.

Like a book, every line and every page.

Soars high in the sky

Leaving time and duty behind,

Carefree as there’s no one to remind.

Every corner did it hunt,

Flapping and flying,

From the blurry mirage to the highest peak

She thinks it’s a game of hide and seek

Unaware that the echo is of its own.

She surrenders with a salute and a bow.

Tired and exhausted, she stops

From the pursuit of the unknown,

And now, there’s no voice to mourn