Hibah Shabkhez

Caged Cockatiels

The door stands open, you say. Liberty
Is two hops away, and they make no move
To flee... With a shrug you peddle and prove
 Your shameful half-truth. But -
  We know the rest.

Tormented by nagging, niggling ghosts of words
 Meant just to be spoken,
Echoed but not understood, they did stage
Revolts, did fling body and soul at steel
  Bars to win free,

Did bruise aching, fluttering hearts until
There was nothing left but a hollow shell
Surrounded by torn feathers. Until hell
 Dwelt within, not without -
  We know the rest.

The door does stand open. Now. But the birds -
 Wings clipped, spirits broken,
They huddle against the bars of the cage
Furthest from the fearsome gulf now yawning 
  Wide before them. 

Hibah Shabkhez is a writer and photographer from Lahore, Pakistan. Her work has previously appeared in Penine Platform, Rust and Moth, Think Journal, The Font, The Raven’s Muse Magazine, and a number of other literary magazines. Studying life, languages, and literature from a comparative perspective across linguistic and cultural boundaries holds a particular fascination for her.