The Sun goes down,
The birds fly back,
Back to their little abode,
No food for the young they lack...
They tweet in jubiliation;enjoying the orange sunset,
No one has to really hunt for a smile...
They find destiny in their nest,
Having no desire for the rest...
The little chicks which needed to be fed,
Are now set,
To be independent.
Off they go in the sky,
With dreams nourished and high...
Leaving behind the beautiful tree,
Which was no longer a home for them to stay forever,
They seek for a life all new,
Keeping an old memory or two,
Never back they look or return,
For now nothing they frighten...
Driving the edge of a knife, this is them;
And the human life...