Dying to be free ~

Near that old window,
in a rusted little cage.
Lives a bird
dying everyday.

The once bright feathers ,
have faded out now.
It's eyes are dry,
they keep staring the sky.

Flying has been a distant dream.
Only a bird by it's name.
Never will it feel the fresh air again,
perhaps dying is it's only aim.

The bird never sang again,
All efforts in vain
The voice wrapped up,
with a blanket of pain.

Now Ages have past,
It sees sunrise at last.
Someone left the door open,
But now it's even hard to walk.

Looking at the sky one final time,
Cries the bird.
Staring the sky,
was the sweetest thing it had heard.