A Spirit's Call for Freedom

The fading call of wild geese is heard beyond the Cyprus trees,
The dainty smell of lilacs wild is like the first smile of a child,
It makes you fall unto your knees…

You scream to heavens, to the skies,
Where the last crow in winter flies,
Where neither sun, nor moon now shine,
You take it for your holy shrine,
And you look up, you’re shouting lies…

You wish to be that wild bird, your spirit free your path uncharted,
You feel a surge, you’re feeling bold,
Yet in your heart lies something cold,
And grave like roses on a stone,
A stone with someone’s name alone, a name which long the soul has parted.

You hear the call once more, you think,
The echo makes you dream and wonder,
If to their universe a link,
Was found somewhere, somewhere down under,
Your eyes now closed, you dream and think.

The trees have hushed their whispers long before,
The geese have vanished far, forever,
And you’re enclosed in nothing more,
Than you yourself, and you will never,
Become that bird, you are however,
Doomed as a person, as before.