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