The Kite

The kite,

Aims to touch the height, 

Up above the sky, 

Flying so high,

Enjoys beautiful sights.

Floating in the air,

Up and down,

Swirling, shivering,

Turning, twisting,

Flutters high and high.

Moves with the wind,

Flies with the flow,

At the mercy of the wind, 

Yet smiles with a glow.

Dreaming its dreams, 

Amidst the sparkly clouds,

Glistening, glittering,

Like the silky flowers,

Enjoys the moments,

Gleefully watching,

Sunshine & shadows,

Vines and meadows.

As long as it's in the air,

No regrets, no fear,

Just like a free bird,

It moves here and there,

The moment it swivels, 

Forgets the pain and anger.

The kite, 

Touches the sky,

Talks to the clouds,

Soaks in with the sunshine,

Yet no proud,

No vainglory. 

And the string 

Always attached

To the ground.

No remorse, no anguish,

Fights till it crashes.

As long as it’s in the air, 

It thinks only of going higher,

It struggles,

Till the string is broken,

And until the end,

It fights and 

Lives like a king.