The Lost Bird

By Dorothea Rosa Herliany

a small and shabby bird was lost
in my heart. the branches prepared no place for its nest.
the falling leaves became a nest
for worms. the branches and trees became harsh commands.
the song had no melody
they were like poems written in a nightmare. beating in my soul. the sky carried no seasons. there was nothing to wait for. and no need to go

children shoot at my heart

the shivers in fright.

Posted in: Literature,Poem