The wings that help me to fly,
Above trees, river and the wall,
Soaring like an eagle in the sky,
Look very little now they all.
Catch me not to cut my wings,
They are my life, I die for them,
I pray earnestly like a caged bird sings,
Or breeze will bring a bad news to them.
No quarrel and boundary of the land,
Cast, region, language or race,
Is obstacle in my way to my goal and,
Sitting by her to unveil her face.
Mohammad Muzzammil
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-wings-of-love-8/
