Once, a parrot was born in the open skies
wild, free, and full of song.
It danced with the wind,
tasted rain on its feathers,
and sang to the sun…
But one day, a hand reached out
and caged it in the Golden bars.
“This is your sky now,”
said the voice.
And slowly,
the sky became a forgotten story.
It was taught to speak,
not its own songs,
but the words of its master.
Again. And again. Obey the echo.
Praise the hand. Forget the sky…
The parrot’s wings remained but
they forgot how to stretch.
Its heart still beat wild but
it beat against bars.
It’s soul still dreamed but
only within a cage…
Far above, the eagle soared.
Over mountains. Through storms.
Alone, but untamed.
It answered only to the wind.
No golden bars.
No sweet fruits in silver bowls.
Only the endless call of the sky
and wild whisper of the winds…
The world praised the talking parrot
so obedient, so clever.
They called the eagle too wild,
too distant, too fierce, too dangerous!
But the eagle never forgot:
Wings are not made for applause.
They are made for flight.
Some birds are taught
cages are homes.
Some birds build their own.
And some are born with
a storm in their chest,
carry thunder in their wings.
Untrainable. Uncageable. Unbound.
Chasing the horizon
that no one named yet…
@Fantasy_Scribbler
06.06.2025