"And a bird without its wings is a lone and tragic thing"

Breathe not into me a life,
that coils me to a body
in the storm of one breath,
there are thousand such deaths.
and I have flown and found
that the bird comes back to a nest
and brings the twigs strewn,
keeps them with the rest.

And caged and caught
I may sigh to sing,
and trap my violent wings
in the fringe that freedom is
as it seems from the cage
and my wings would cut in rage
and my wings would fall in rage
"And a bird without its wings
is a lone and tragic thing"