Posted by Victor Bassey on
Across the sky sits the Bird, looking solemn like a man in meditation
Its wings clasped together, its eyes shifty
Uncertain of wither to go, left it considers, right it hesitates
Pondering over the very emptiness of its actions
Neither flies up nor down, hangs it is on the balance
Not ready to make a-go, not ready to initiate a fly
Day creeps to night and night unfolds to day
Hangs it it is on the balance
The Sparrow passes by, the Hawk flies, the Kite sour and the Eagle glides
Across the sky sits the Bird looking solemn like a man in meditation
Its wings clasped together, its eyes shifty
Uncertain of wither to go.