The leaf trying its best to cringe to the tree,

The brown leaf trying its best to cling to the tree,
Or Maya Angelou’s caged bird which has lost its will to be free.
The planet which the black hole consumed,
Or the extinct specie whose lifeline couldn’t be resumed .
The story which is still waiting for its ending,
Or maybe the tryst which is yet pending.
The poem which the poet didn’t bother to finish,
Or the frowning girl who doesn’t get a chance to relish.
The equilibrium which is impossible to attain,
Or the relationship which is impossible to maintain.
Maybe with such a familiar curse I’m cursed with,
Or my existence itself is a myth.