The bed of wings lay spread
on this bountiful earth.
The moon adorned with the cloud pashmina,
Must have delightfully witnessed some pleasure
Of how they tried, tried with all their might
And flew towards the ball of light: their sun
Believing the night was all they had: their lifetime
To catch a ray of that glow.
With glory they descend into the soil
Making sure their wings embark
The ballad of their struggles.