She was dusk, she was fire. She was every shade of crimson.
She could be bound by no chains, or held by no prison.
She was beautiful, and delicate, with skin so fair,
With her kind of agility, she seemed lighter than air!
She hated being on the ground, and always wanted to soar high.
With eyes set on the stars, she always wanted to conquer the sky!
She had seen a lot of green and red, her life was no treat!
May it be being crushed on the ground, or stomped on by heavy feet.
She was poked and pierced, and then sewn and mend.
Nobody cared about the scars or patches, but only how well she could bend!
But she was very determined, and refrained from ever backing out
With every downfall on her way, opportunities she would scout.
She was nobody’s to control. Nobody’s to guide.
She only left them all dumfounded, the ones who actually tried.
And with just a little wind in her stride, she took off for her greatest expedition
Conquering the great blue was no undemanding mission.
The competition was fierce, with millions reaching out for the same destiny
Few – with zest impeccable. Few with bodies too huge, few too skinny!
And she failed – not once, not twice, but several times. Flying without wings was no easy task
A little more courage and vigor and effort. Was that too much to ask?
And come January 14, she wasn’t to be stopped. It was finally her day!
She sure was no ordinary kite. She flew to lands far, far away.