I dreamt of flying
With wings made of beautiful colorful feathers
The trees, mountains and the sky
Was my place of solace.

I called upon a cuckoo
That imitated my voice.
Was I like her,
Imitating all the fictitious beliefs.

I could live the life of a bird
Persistent of its task, with a whim.
Let go, let go of all conditions
That is anticipated, thus sojourn.

I extended my hands up
But in vain, this was my test of paradoxes.
I had to declare myself
Of all obligations, through defiance.