‘A flightless bird without a voice?’
She was precious no more.
The king stopped feeding the bird.
She filled her stomach with grains given by sympathizing courtiers.
Sometimes at broad daylight and other times in her deep slumber fantasies.
Days passed and flowers withered
And soon the winter came.
And brought along a hope within the nightingale.
The urge to flee from the cold lands
The urge to migrate.
She opened her wings forgetting that they were broken,
Tried to sing but deaf to hear.
And blinded she took her flight,
Colliding with her restraints.
Again and again.
And dies realizing that she had sung her last song long back.
Very good post about the nightingale’s last song. You have penned down a nice poem. Keep up the good work.
Superb …✌️
Just wow👏👏💫🔥🔥
👌👌👌🤩
Nice one 👌
Awesome
Wonderful expression given to the plight of the nightingale. It seems as if I am watching a movie.
Emotions are well expressed,as if tied before the eyes.
Thank you to your imagination.
Superb 🔥🥳👏❤