He lives in the deepest and darkest of homes
Where one finds the ultimate freedom of solace
Mommies slumber babies to his bedtime lullabies
Leaves and buds bloom to his morning melodies
His stances of life took a surprising reversal
When he came across a townlet in his stint
Folks seemed to live there happy and sound
Crushing the dreams of certain private goals
He thought of his world of complementary bonds
Where sacrifices never exist for living ahead
Bound to the chains for expressing their desires
Live there a fortune of unspoken elegant dames
He sings and sings and sings… to make them glad
Which strained his throat and nothing arose
Dusk to dawn and dawn to dusk – until his death.
‘None can please them - even the God’ his swan song meant
He never returned to his dearest heavenly abode
Where his dear and near ones awaited his arrival
Nobody heard his soothing melodious songs thereupon
And his buddies ceased to explore human habitats
Once there lived a cheerful Nightingale in the forest
Who strived to alter the lives of the tyrannized
He failed to comprehend the universal truth –
“Transitions should come from the oppressed minds”
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