Why impelling feeling with talks,
bottling up something ethereal
in all the tangible bulks?
Why fleecing feelings,
finding their feathers?
Figures, the bloated points,
distend to the curvatures’ compositions,
like stillness to wave.
We bewilder silence
when zero swells to the whole world -
Why frame the sky with our imprisonment?
Why cage the birds to appreciate
their beauty,
their ability to fly?
