The King of the world



It is difficult to find a truth where
The hungry crow makes its nest
To meet  its thrust for water and food
The food is not prepared for the little bird
Whose intention to steal and snatch
In the wake of normal livelongs.
The crow comes out in the dark
All are fallen asleep it knows to stir
The cookeries and other utensils
Where it puts its dirty things to reform
For solely breaking the channels and thwart.
In the time when there exists plenty of food
The crow never touches fresh foods
It lives on the dirty objects as the arctic
Animals and birds survive together 
To  wholesome upon the beds of icy land.

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