Fallen sun

Like a flock of sheep gnawing in the field
He looks around to have jollity of mind
To have the garb to wrap his hurling roof
He is forlorn, scared stiff beside the woof.
Asking his mother being unable to stay,
He has to find goblets to put it to the bay.
The one buys it to retrieve the case
He knows and alerts to pull his bodily haze.
And to proceed more to survive ahead
For finding better place somewhere to be fed.
All there roses for the rich and high
Apart from the slums to think at sigh
Being poor, living afar the least gallop
Passing day and night with only a flop
By means of the air to blow before the string
As if to live like the gallant offspring.
Like the flower so bustling in the dazzling hill
His life slides away like run of the mill.
None in the world come ahead to assuage him
To carry the message of love in glowing beam.

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