An Old Man And The Fallen Kite

My heydays weren't different either,

The travails were worth the alluring trips,

High above the horizons,

Where fond dreams veiled themselves,

Under the blanket of white clouds!

Many of those dreams could I,

Unmask and usurp;

A few duped me though,

Thus keeping me longing,

For them so long that,

I tattered my skin,

Like your torn body,

And broken spine.

Fret not, O fallen kite!

Share instead;

Stories of your sojourns,

Up in the air,

When you lead an endless string,

Amidst pulls of a mighty wind.

Let's chatter like this,

Until we decay and decease,

And take our final flight,

That'll send us beyond our bosom sky!