The Flight Of Kite

 

Where is the flight
Colouring my spirited eyes

Penchant for flying kites
Embodied all glory to names

To a tug, blindness seeks
Vision of skies

In an erratic turn
It tether string to my love

Another kite hissing, do
War for the kingdom of skies

Either the many cut, or
The many kingdom won

Some gulping
Some drooling my saliva down

Those golden days gone, I
Stick my tongue dried

Barren of all support
Anchor my present, arid to skies!

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