Incarcerated within the concrete walls
There was a little swallow
Tiny and fragile, just like an eensy sapling sprouting from the hard shell.
Her little claws were fettered
Her wings were chained
The gloomy walls were intimidate her.
Oblivious and bleak the surrounding was.
But her heart; tiny and soft, was beating with hope
Yet, uncouth sorrow permeating within the concrete walls,
Swallow’s heart it was, indeed!
Not to be succumbed by sorrow was
It’s virtue sublime.
But, far in the corner was a finest crevice,
Filled with melancholy it became an impermeable pellicle for light to percolate through
Yet the ruby eyed swallow could see the shimmer,
She flapped her chained wings but fell down
Trying to walk, she fell down.
The hope in her tiny heart was growing big
With her every effort.
She kept on struggling,
She got wounded; miserably,
Tiny swallow after all she was.
And the hope turned into a wind
Of the East; pleasant yet startling,
With a gust of the wind
She felt flapping of wings
In her tiny heart
She started to fly in the air
Chains became shattered
Fetters got broken
Concrete walls razed to ground
In just a gust of wind saturated with hope.
Embodiment of courage and valour she became
Found her real wings the tiny swallow flew beyond the sky…