A man is lying dead in a field where no one is around. His head is split open and his legs are disfigured. Near to him, there is an unopened package. No living organism can be found anywhere at the crime scene.
I am the black child of a white father, a wingless bird, flying even to the clouds of heaven. I give birth to tears of mourning in pupils that meet me, even though there is no cause for grief, and at once on my birth, I am dissolved into air. What am I?
