beyondanger Poetry (1)

That morning when i opened the door,
found a wounded bird crawling on the floor.
Unable to bear the pitiable sight,
my heart started feeling for the mite.
I brought the creature in at once,
assumed to have been shot by guns.
I tried my best to make him calm,
fed him water, caressed with palm.
He hopped around all the night,
with all the sufferings he had to fight.
I found it tough to leave him alone,
none of us drowsed till the dawn.
We were friends so soon,
the intimacy aided as a boon.
The gashes started healing faster,
i never let him recall the disaster.
The friend was still not ready to fly,
but i didnt realise his lust for the sky.
Unaware of his intentions, i retired to bed,
when he flew away with just sky in his head.
I wept all day i ate nothing,
with hope that he would be coming.
I kept waiting for him on & on,
T'was already late, he was long gone.