She is like the frog of her own pond
Desire of living there is her only fond,
Frog being the symbol of bold
But she afraid to be alone
And never tried to fly along.
He is like the Nightinagle
Moving around in every angle,
Hold the beauty of his song
Still live in his dark hole,
Both are different
But still have one in common
She croak to call her mate
He sing to endeavour his date
Both cry in their own fantasy
Have much but still feel empty.
~Muskan
-