Two birds wanting to fly together,
to a flock, they do not belong,
to the grass, they cannot land,
only up above the sky, can they be.
Two birds, out of the many,
shared a few, shared so many,
good times gone, never a plenty,
but indeed, they were happy.
Two birds, one's left, one's alone,
waiting and waiting, it longs,
hoping, praying it would return,
it feels as if half of it's gone.
Two birds, no longer together,
wanting to fly, without the feather,
but it remembers the bad weather,
and how it's caused them to wither.
Two birds, one is no more,
it sits on the grass, and growl,
regretting the past that it did,
and separate from them all.
- Nazri Awang, Desa Pandan, 1 August 2012, 12.17am.