Migration

This is not a poem, but some lines of analogy



Just like one wildbeest in its herd of millions, you move with your race.

There are places that you go to, but are surrounded by walls of limbs.

Views are obstructed, landscapes hidden.

Bodies swarm over you, and time passes you by.

Head is down and you march ahead, your eyes see a monotonous view.

Nothing seems new in life, you visit places but don't see them.

You move in a herd, so live like a wildbeest.

Find a solution is what you say.

Here I tell you what is my way.

Break free to see the land, run away to feel the breeze.

Shout loud to be heard, make haste to the land of dreams.

Move out from the haven of herd, fight predators with the will of god.

If you survive you will live,

If you don't you would have lived.

Migrate to greener pastures, not hidden within the herd but in the front flying high.