The Free Agent

Can this blazing furnace
Within ever chill out?
As more often than not
A fusillade of iron stones
Finds their way right through!
 
 
I can no longer take to the sky,
I have been stripped of my wings.
Sure! I can’t fly without wings.
Utterly disappointed I became,
For they can’t see the golden necklace in my hand!
 
 
What intrigues me the most, is
How under false pretence they stare,
Like a doctor to his patient they appear,
From all angles they seem to care,
Yet their game is not fair and square!
 
 
For how long should I dwell in fool’s paradise,
Thinking the next cloud won’t rain like the rest?
Many would find my recourse just a parrot-fashion.
But my decision would not be off the track,
For I am aware of its recuperative power!
 
 
I move heaven and earth, then
Put my best foot forward to decide,
But I can’t see the other way round.
Alas! The destination is reached at last
Wedlock’s bondage is not for me!