exile

no one really knows what is it like to be in exile.
the pain and the sorrow at Home,
the hope and the faith for freedom,
still remains an enigma.

some said,
exile is the beauty in reproach,
but to me it's a step away from extinction.

Happy the man,
who has a place to call home,
an air to breathe comfortably,
power to live and die freely.

if life is a series of unending struggle,
let's not rest n rust,
as Thum Gunn said:
One is always nearer by not keeping still.

as day tuns to dark,
i walk in accompanied
with fear n forgotten,
watching the birds flew
pointed back to its home.