I Sigh about what I see with my eye

observing the thump of a lump

bidding yes to eye that cry

bumping into a huge trump.

butterflies fly in the sky,

fungi favors a rock,

by and by an effort to try

is attempted by weatherrock.

should I lie about what I saw in the sky

and how my feelings were stirred

by aspirations reaching high

making the unheard of heard.

What sadness prevails when mortal men die

as the ocean ends at beginning of land

when a fair doth lowly fry

in taking a superior stand.

is it only me who's lonely ?

with all things be granted to those who pray ?