The Foggy Question

I can hear these words: do not hurt me;

Blowing from the cave, far away

And those are repeatedly hunting me.

Tell me, where are yours pains

And for how many days those are?

Is Adam, the first founder?

Oh my innocents!

They are barbaric, no doubt;

They want to break your freedom,

Your hands, legs and wings!

My grasshoppers have to choose

Their shelters are into the greens.

What pathetic those tortures are!

I have no words to explain dears.

They usually demand they are in love.

Are not those for temporary?

The foolish souls get trap in-

The hozpoz of our civilization

And fail to come back, breaking the chains!

Truly these are pathetic! From eras

After eras, I had passed in thinking.

But I have still to find the exclusive answer:

Why the birds want their captures!

Is this a foggy and will remain as foggy?