“Birds”by Srija Nagireddy; “10/12/16” by Daisy Yin



Kings of the sky

Created to soar

Above common existence.

Then why,

Are their deceased not laid to rest,

In brilliant blue.

Why is there no place for them among the clouds?

No stellar grave.

Wings rugged with use,


They plummet.

A burial of





Why is it that Death,

Blind with milky eyes,

Groping in the dark.

Death who takes,

The first to receive his leaden touch.

Why is it that he does not look,

How far you have flown,

How many stars you have touched?



Airborne creatures trapped

By illusions of escape.

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