Like The Fearless Lark Poem by Rimni chakravarty

I write, scribble but do I feel the intense passion to create?
I ask myself to find this answer
Better I should not fret
Or else my mind travel far
And I will be unable to concentrate
Focus on to the points I write,
Well, I must then carry myself light;
Yes Light, just like the lark does
Without much fuss
With spontaneity it flaps its wings out in the open
As it flies it pours out its strain.
May be it is unaware or oblivious
Of the hunter eager to shoot it down
Add another feather in his crown
Of shooting a musical bird for his lunch!
The Lark know no fear
While it pours out music in every ear
Who listen to forget miseries and pain?