By: Tehniat Fatima Ahmed
Wings flopped, head lowered
This creature is supposed to depict happiness and peace
Yet, all I see in his eyes is anguish
Nevertheless, he smiles
He purrs a tale where his wings became his nemesis
The element of liberty turned into infinite torture
His wings sweep the floor diligently
The blanket of grey gradually turning into ash
His golden strands start changing colour
White being washed by grey
He looks at me intently
His eyes blazing with hatred and blame
His teeth glisten through his lips
Thunder lights his wickedly beaming face up
Opening his fist up, he offers a hand
Terrified and dismantled, my hand slides over his
Gushes of wind envelope us
“My time,” he whispers
Pain is written all over his face yet that grin is plastered
“Like a mosquito caught in a wild hurricane, young one.”
And with those words, his eyes harden into stone.
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