In Visible Shackles

There she was.

Cooped up in a giant glass cage.

A nightingale in exile,

Forced to sing the songs of jolly.

The freedom plucked away

Like the leaves painting the canvas Mid-Autumn.

Her beauty was not in the echoes of her voice

For the melodies belonged to the cage.

She longed for it still.

Welcoming the purple and red clouds

As if the sand wasn't shining without them.

You can take her out of the cage,

But she won't know how to fly in space.

For she knew stars only from mythology.