A Promised Dawn Poem by Xelam Kan™

To get home,
my fancies nest
on leafless twigs and in fallen trees,
but it always runs into the same dark sky,
and to the same grey wild.

I am the most ordinary and
inconspicuous pal, and
the heaven is not for me,
nor I am made to sing
the holy hymns.

So don't kill my peace -
the peace of mind - and
don't ever moralize
the devilish grin of lords,
that eclipse the culture's norms.

Listen! what time fortells,
'Man eyes yet to see
the promised Dawn.'