Dreams once gifted me wings,
To fly to lands unseen,
Time, then, made me crippl’d
Of my wings and my dreams!
Thy heart is dead without thy wings,
Wrecked soul looks for spurs,
Body, weak, monochrome, sings,
Like the hornbill that cries for rains.
My muse’s snoozing, deep and fast,
“Come down in torrents” – that’s my cry,
“Wake her up,” my prayer to thee!
“Cure my wings,” I need to fly!
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