14 May, 2014

The migrator

The sunlight, fading in.
My heart, breaking within.
Life has long lost its glee.
I walk into the hall
And see the birds of fall.

Leaving home, they fly away,
As I stand here in dismay.
How do you fly, merrily,
Unafraid of chores, bravely?

Do you not care of world around?
Vexed not of building nest again?
Afraid, as aliens surround?

You fly, unrestrained, past half the world;
While I stay, with belongings to hold,

Wishing to fly like you, My Migrator.

Who am I? Or is it Who I am?