Kindled.

I was too afraid to fly,

Cannot lie.

Once you get down,

As you drown,

Too hard it is to rise,

And win the shining prize.

The trenches stench,

Of the murky stuff,

And it does quench,

Your flaming fluff.

Now you cannot fly,

But you can lie,

You can add more floors,

To your rising cage,

Though your esteem lowers.

Making you full of rage,

To conquer the soaring sky,

It’s nothing but a stealthy lie.

The darkness blinds you,

Making it feel like,

You are not caged.

It’s a cage of gold,

Built to last,

Till you become old.

The sparkling blast

Dead hand of the past.

The lightness blinds you,

Making it feel like,

You are not caged.

You fear the deep trenches

Thus keep flying.

Being afraid to fly,

You never do land.

Maybe you still have sparks,

Maybe you are a glowing coal,

The unextinguished hearth,

It’s enough.

Give it air,

Let it flare,

Must you dive,

Into dreary depths of treacherous abyss.

Thy hit hard,

Thy ghostly fear,

Disappears.

The dismal depths will lead you,

To uneasy under waters,

Swimming into you’ll meet the,

Startling sea waters.

When you’ll surface,

Freedom will show its face.

Your gold cage was an island,

A dreamy die-land.

Kindled with fire of thousand suns,

Fears are none.

Don’t be shy

Now, ye may fly,

Without being sly.

You are never-dying,

Freedom is flying,

Without lie-ing.

             -Madhur Anand