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I Fly Like a Leaf

I fly like a leaf
In the dusk of barren autumn
Detached and unmatched
From the greens of valleys
And at the hilltop
I was falling down
Where the air sings me a song
And my clashings with words
Claps in a way
Like strings of guitar strummed
Or the air finding it's way out of flute
Illuminating out melodious tone
And with every beat of drum
Dead Heart rejoiced.

I was still flying above the ground
And Waving my tail,
To thrust myself up and
To keep myself in illusion
That ground is far below
And I am on seventh sky
Waving through rainbow
Hiding in silhouette of clouds.

Suddenly,
The breeze left me,
Alone, above and high.
The gravity started kissing the dead me
And with its affection I was soon on ground
I was weeping in pain
While the layers of soil covered my wounds
And I was buried and killed by gravity
Looking through new palace of earth
I wasn't the only whore of gravity
There were thousands like me
Buried deep and dead
With desires to escape slavery
I was dead, so were my ambitions
I was just a flying leaf
Who challenged the drought autumn....

~Praful Maheshwari

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Where's my freedom? Is it caged or tangled in chains! or it is suppressed between the restrictions that they keep imposing on me. Then they ask me necessity of it; other's said that's their concern, but a concern isn't meant to chop the wings of an eagle, it's about giving a thrust to their flight of heights. They are themselves caged between the  chaos of the melodrama of society. They breath for themselves but breeds for the society, they opt the brain, steered by society, and these hands hold the fetters of my freedom binding anxiety. Here's is my freedom down their hands, getting older and older, shattering its age with rusted fetters. But they forgot, every chain will once break, every feather will regrow, every bird will fly anew, to live this freedom, to live this era, to live this life. ~ Praful Maheshwari