She was a vegetable once
until she shrilled an outcry
there the world smiled
the fair and lovely
new born child
She was taught to talk and walk
loved so much
scolded in some runs.
Sensitive and sensible
she grew pretty well
but the spirit was free
it was a different gel.
She was shown the shiny moon
when she was aged 2
at 20 she wanted
to taste nature's bloom
her dreams were of flight
she loved elemental boom
with wind and rain
she conversed
with thunder
she felt delight.
Her mother knew
she won't be able to hold her long
for despite of her love
her freedom was further strong.
And one day she out-stepped
the fairy fort
the fate so secured.
For she belonged to the gypsies
those different from the crowd.
An artist, a free soul
a mysterious spirit was she.
Through forests, mountains and rivers
glided she so free.
But she missed her home.
Missed those that gave her entity.
But she loved her freedom.
This being wild in immensity.
She was made of extremes
and she knew it.
She couldn't be kept inside.
She drooled on it.
Time and again
when the world was rude
she thought of all the love
that her mother always outpored
time and again
when the things were so fine
she missed to laugh
along her family
dancing in golden rhyme.
But she had her own journey.
Road on which
only she was supposed to be.
For even if she missed her home.
Somehow it is in journey
she found her vision of Om.
She often wondered
why was she doing it
why the world ruing it.
At times she felt happy
wherever she went
at times she felt everywhere
something is missing
From point A
point B seemed better.
At point C
Point D seemed bitter.
Life seemed like
a pendulum at times.
At times a group of crossways
many options - every time.
At times even decisions
seemed burdensome.
At times to take her own decision
was itself a struggle.
But her freedom ensured one thing,.
The free spirit
never did things unlike her wish.
For she followed her heart
in every turning.
She focused on her concise
in every spring.
So she had no regrets.
every decision had been her own.
Every repercussion was
from her own stem.
Except sometimes
she felt sad.
for the things that she lost
for the things she must had had.
But her freedom was intact
even if her wings
now seemed black
But she was still waiting
for her giant flight
only she wished
she could have taken
her people alongside.
until she shrilled an outcry
there the world smiled
the fair and lovely
new born child
She was taught to talk and walk
loved so much
scolded in some runs.
Sensitive and sensible
she grew pretty well
but the spirit was free
it was a different gel.
She was shown the shiny moon
when she was aged 2
at 20 she wanted
to taste nature's bloom
her dreams were of flight
she loved elemental boom
with wind and rain
she conversed
with thunder
she felt delight.
Her mother knew
she won't be able to hold her long
for despite of her love
her freedom was further strong.
And one day she out-stepped
the fairy fort
the fate so secured.
For she belonged to the gypsies
those different from the crowd.
An artist, a free soul
a mysterious spirit was she.
Through forests, mountains and rivers
glided she so free.
But she missed her home.
Missed those that gave her entity.
But she loved her freedom.
This being wild in immensity.
She was made of extremes
and she knew it.
She couldn't be kept inside.
She drooled on it.
Time and again
when the world was rude
she thought of all the love
that her mother always outpored
time and again
when the things were so fine
she missed to laugh
along her family
dancing in golden rhyme.
But she had her own journey.
Road on which
only she was supposed to be.
For even if she missed her home.
Somehow it is in journey
she found her vision of Om.
She often wondered
why was she doing it
why the world ruing it.
At times she felt happy
wherever she went
at times she felt everywhere
something is missing
From point A
point B seemed better.
At point C
Point D seemed bitter.
Life seemed like
a pendulum at times.
At times a group of crossways
many options - every time.
At times even decisions
seemed burdensome.
At times to take her own decision
was itself a struggle.
But her freedom ensured one thing,.
The free spirit
never did things unlike her wish.
For she followed her heart
in every turning.
She focused on her concise
in every spring.
So she had no regrets.
every decision had been her own.
Every repercussion was
from her own stem.
Except sometimes
she felt sad.
for the things that she lost
for the things she must had had.
But her freedom was intact
even if her wings
now seemed black
But she was still waiting
for her giant flight
only she wished
she could have taken
her people alongside.
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