Turn Me Into a Beautiful Kite

The law of nature is,

That on one fateful day...

You do fall down.

From your position, from your emotion

From your pride, from your sentience

From the highs and the lulls

From the charms and the dulls

From your breaths, the puffs, the gasps

Like those swatted wasps

You will fall down

And who am I

A frivolous snob

To dispute the law of nature

So let it all play out...

I concede my plunge

But before that...

Before that, I have a request

I want you to transform me

Amidst my descent

As now, I am like a souvenir

An Idle and brittle showpiece

I will fall and break into pieces

Please transform me...

Transform me, into a Kite

There, I fly high in the unknown

Unafraid of the challenges thrown

The ground pulls me down

The air pushes me back

Yet, I twirl on and whirl on...

And dance along my track.

I am held up straight by two relentless sticks.

My dad vertically,

Teaching me honor, being my backup

Imparting me lessons I will need my way up

And then my mom, who bends for me

The rules, the principles, the reality.

Applying the ointments

on my heart, my ego, my bruised knee.

There is also a long and thorny string attached

Clutching from behind, jiving my sticks

She calls herself the responsibility

She holds me firmly and warns me of my fate

If I ever tread on uncharted paths

If I ever forget my bread and my maths

I laugh at the irony...

Supposed to fly but confined to a rope

The smell of a hug garbed in the ick of a grope

I use the wind and rise up a notch

The grumpy rope is out of its gauge

And I attain freedom.

There is afloat in that dive

A fist in that five

When I roam endlessly in the cold air

Like witnessing a daydream after a nightmare

So, please...

Before the inevitable dust, I bite

Turn me into a beautiful kite