The Lost Pigeon
They say that when you love a bird, you set it free.
And if it comes back to you,
then perhaps it was meant to be yours.
I found a lost bird — helpless and blind,
its eyes closed, waiting for death to finally arrive.
Its body trembling, powerless to stand on its own,
Driven by hopelessness, the poor bird was unseen and alone.
But I saw the fragile soul deep within the shiny dark feathers
And chose to give it a second chance at life it deserved.
I made a loft of love and warmth it could call a safe haven,
Until it could finally see the light again.
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Solitude through darkness helped it gather strength
And my poor bird woke up with stronger wings.
My dear bird, its eyes are now wide open —
Strong enough to fly into the calm winds
and with every sound it makes, i hear it sing.
I tossed it into the skies, and it flapped its wings faster.
And as it flew away, it went farther and farther…
It never looked back, leaving my heart broken into pieces.
My dear bird left, and I know it’ll never come back to me.
I thought the loft I made would be enough to make it stay,
And with every seed I fed, I hoped it’d never think of going away.
Though it never understood what my language truly meant,
And with all hands trying to encage it, there’s a soul who sets it free.
I found the lost bird — helpless and blind.
I set it free, thinking it’ll come back to me.
But it never did — the bird perhaps is not mine to keep.
But it found its way home — and home was never me.
Judicrates the Great 09/08/2026
