Strewn across the ground was the body of a bird.

Blood trickled out of her beak and soaked

Her wings that had dared to fly. But her eyes

Weren’t filled with fear or cowardice or regret;

A certain challenging spark twinkled in them,

Almost provoking the observer to move her.

A tall tree stood beside her rumpled body:

Red patches could be seen on its trunk.

“Must be the bird, she flew too high”,

A passerby muttered.

I thought to myself

‘Atleast she flew’