A Bird from Paradise

It's a winter late noon, 
Is it a town or a village?
Or, just a soft earthen box?
Soon everything is about to be wrapped by the twilight. 
Birds are returning home.
 And, I am here with my sum up anguish. 
Under the grey carpet sky, 
Trying to organize some puzzled thoughts,
scattered on my rainbow surface. 
Thinking about the slash I once bore.
I remember the merciless soil has just smashed my flesh!
I often feel the rustling sound of human feet.
But no one is there to rescue me.
I am circling, circling…
around the emptiness!
Remembering my lost verses.
Embraced by the haziness.
Where am I? 
Suddenly,
I hear the chirping sound of a bird. 
Has arranged a cozy seat on my window. 
Its emerald feathers are layered with endearment. 
And the crystal eyes carry blessings.
 I wonder is it a bird from paradise!

The writer is a student of BRAC University.