Wings have gained the fervour,
they’re ready to confide in air’s blow
But the swindle mind in fetter
and the socio-creed says no to go
The shackle of love tearing off,
the spongy flesh of ambition,
No gain, no cosset but it’s rough,
in the name of desire of suffocation.
I have to leave, to get to that aperture,
of impeccable desire to fly high,
Your melancholy is ephemeral by nature,
and my importunating essence is till I die.
I have to leave due to the promise I made to myself,
and get that tears off my shoulder there’s no need to cry,
I’m determined of my knowledge delve,
and will leave whether you give succession to try.
The spangled sky calls me,
at the reverie of each day’s numbness,
I’m sorry, I ought to leave ,
I ain’t destined to primrose living reckless
The time is less and I ought to tell,
I’ll miss you even at heights,
I’m a traveller, I need to go,
but will meet you in dreams every sullen night

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