On an isolated, lonely atmosphere,
He is chained and watched.
His thoughts are being crumpled and the ink is weeping.
They tell him to leave himself, and join a different league,
He listens, he tries, but in vain, he can't be wise.
Emotions, feelings, heart is carrying him,
They dislike this, and they seem to be burying him.
Love of his is being objected, he is told not to express himself,
His wings are cut off him as he looks at those with distress
Who once appreciated him. He now feels betrayed.
On a dry patch of land, there is his caged identity,
His words often troubling him back, as the ones he loves
Dislike those words, and he would care for their contentment first.
He still flies to some extent, but delight is unable to touch him,
The joy he seeks resides in some magical sky, which is abandoning him.
He prays, he flies, he soars, he tries...to tear the dark clouds apart
And make others love his love.
