The bird...

I was an apprentice to a cruel Master who kept his bird caged.
Once, I opened the cage.
'Go, fly way, have some fun.'
The bird flew away, did whatever birds do when they are free. I could see her, sometimes, high in the sky.
The Master came back. Whistled and the bird stopped in mid-air, torn between the call and freedom. She came back.
I had to say goodbye. There was a single tear in the bird's eye and I realised my terrible mistake.
For you grieve not for what you know not, but for what is lost.