Work and Trust Yourself Şiiri - Yorumlar

The sounds of baby birds may remind one of heaven,
A bird it is, that can’t even recall where it once flew,
It drifts between the past and today,
A bird that forgot the taste of fire and can’t recall its own burning,
It seeks a remedy for its wounded heart in cold, forgotten stairwells,
A poet, perhaps, who took purity from the divine and stayed loyal to his past,
A bird, maybe, living in doubt, blind to what lies ahead or behind,