The Flight

She is perched on a branch,

Watching her companions dance.

Unknown the world is to her,

The heinous things are just a blur.

Then her companions dance no more,

And she can not ask for an encore.

She too is aghast seeing the hue of blood,

there was much besides the brown color of mud.

She could sit no more so fledged,

The predator after her making her wretched.

Finally she felt the hearth,

The blue skies and the golden sun blazing above.

The flight was not only of the bird which flew,

For it was what most of us do.

When thoughts are ugly,dark and deep,

There is  yet a ray of hope to keep.