Liberated, Not Free: A Bird's Mayhem Poem by A.R Bilal

From a cave like cage, a bird just got free,
Flying high in sky, spread wings on a tree,
One can hear, with doubt it chirps, stutters,
One can see, moves with a fear and flutters,
All the rage ever rage is gone, long lost will,
Still! Can't stand, the ways to still stand still,
Each move reflects a reel-show of dubiety
Like it is bitten by the frosty spell of a deity,
Losing touch and fervors of flowery fragrances,
Cursorily, evoking, I wouldn't go far distances,
The compass of its nerves, seems embittered,
Ah! beak is lusterless, a dagger that once glittered,
The acmes of Everest, it kissed along its folks,
Now, one of its wings is bruised, thus chokes,
All the definitions of beauty seem fluid, deceit,
How faster it moves, can't beat its fellows' feat,
Lingers from twig to twig, like an actor on stage,
Not yet bygone is the devilish, noetic cage.