Burnt in The journey long

Flying fumes and dancing flames that burns the man's mantle to a molten mound and moulds into varied shape Hardened then broken and bursted to an array of patterned portraits with sprinked mesh work of Laughs and teardrops and grizzling states He runs across to emboss and immerse in paints To thread and weave and stain the lanes And when in the surging streams he lost his stay Sparkles of the night kindled his way He lived and feathered and relished his time Till his sights got condensed by a cloudy slime

Dusted and wrinkled in the journey long He sits and ponder the fate to come What a man holds but his deeds to take The virtuous is hereby taking the break Autumns would leave the life to rust And pinch the pain in the withering gust Yet again buds will bloom with a great might And haze will subside in the heavens light