I’ve always wanted to know if the birds ever felt free inside,

Do they gaze above into the stars each night as my eyes do?

How many places have their feet touch that the birds didn’t want to stay in?

But the moment I step near them, they fly away in fear.

And how many moments have I stayed in a place afraid that I might never be there again.

Even with the fear looming in my mind that I might never be the same if I stay too long,

These birds know their limit; they don’t want to fly close to the sun because they don’t need to escape,

And when they look into the sky, they don’t fear that it could come crashing down,

When the sun descends, their hope doesn’t sink with it of another day gone by but the void still inside.

They don’t care about goodbyes because all they want to do is live,

and this animal instinct is in some of us too,

for if you really want to be happy then you cannot know what comes next.

What bird longs for death? They live in constant fear that they might die and they try to survive,

and when you live like that, trying always to live, life is easy.

But life is unbearable when you realise that wherever you go and whenever a moment passes by,

your only enemy is time; and some, like the birds, don’t care about goodbyes because they fear death more.

Now I’ve realised the only ‘goodbye’ is death.

And when it comes, I’ll never be able to say goodbye to the world,

but that doesn’t matter because death is in the back of my mind.

You are born into a world where there will never be enough of a lifetime to remember every place before you die.

And even if you did, the taint of time changes the place so much that going to those places only hurt your mind and soul.

This world is good at making you think you lost your soul and even better at reminding you you never even had a soul.

But my soul is my ticket out of this place where I walk with chains on my feet shackled to a corrupted culture praying ‘Take me to paradise, Dear LORD.’

Escape is a promise of peace and acceptance in a place untouched by sorrow.

For each night the pillow under my head turns into a cold stone wall,

But in my dreams, I am not truly alive,

Instead the pain begins when I realise I am awake,

With each attempt to go back to sleep, the dreams become more terrifying and disconcerting,

And then I realise there is no solace, there is no escape.

So in the silence you learn of acceptance, but you never compromise,

Because the dream keeps beating on like a separate heart,

And the pain wouldn’t exist if you weren’t shackled to life,

My dreams have become my chains that are the only silver lining in the storm clouds of life.