Apparently she is an Allure,
A flower is she that blossoms all day,
A shining star all night.
She’s like a bird in the nest house,
Protected often, away from the gloom.
Rains do not make her wet to fall in love with the drops, winds do not kiss her cheeks, winter does not shiver her, summer does not make her quench!!!
Curious she is to know how it feels,
How Independence feels.
Though Independence is just a state of mind,
Million times she tries to escape the trap, but she cries.
The protection seems to be a trap often,
She finds ways to break the trap..however, saying a lie is what she denies.
She doesn’t want to hurt the people who have made the nest for her,
Raised her like a princess but
Perhaps the ones who raised her just cannot break the convention.
Conventions of the Society, that allows nothing but less and many times no liberty.
Now Within her grows a Sad demise.
The demise of her Wings, which want to fly..if not always but once.
Shiver in cold, get drenched in rain..taste the greens, dance in the yellow,make moves to and fro.
Demise of her Dreams to be a traveler like a kite,
How self-governed the kite is to climb to the pinnacle,she feels
Life is short she agrees, and she is still in the nest house.
Today when she peeps out of her window when rains have kissed the sun-baked earth,
she performs soliloquies with her Wings flying high like a kite.
Who knows whether she would ever be able to kiss her dreams or be a kite?
Because apparently she is an allure
A flower is she that blossoms all day.