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Poetry

The Untimely Migration

Gourab Banerjee

The bird left its home, a tad early.
The sweet melody still echoes about the past.
It left willingly, in search of something new.
Never looked back, to what it left behind.
The melancholy hums of a day, it is unsure of.
The bird is destined to never turn back.
If it was eager to leave so soon,
Why fly down here?
The world hasn't been kind to it at all.
The bird flies endlessly,
knowing it has nowhere to go.
It searches for a utopia
and wants to name it peace.
How long will it take to realize, that it's lost?
The decision was taken in haste,
and now it must pay.
The bird left its home, a tad early.
Will it be able to find what it's looking for?
The branch of that tree,
don't miss it anymore.
The woven nest, cries, knowing it's futile.
If it was eager to leave so soon,
Why fly down here?
The tree wishes for the bird to come back again.
Even if the bird left its home, a tad early.
The bird must come back for spring.
Even if the bird chose to stay away for the winter,
The bird must come back for spring.
If the bird withers down with the cold burden,
It must come back for spring.

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