Innocent, happy
Joyful
furry Wool
Racing and pacing through
The heavens
Never sit still
Always roaming
Spreading the bliss
In the form of mist.
Till they get heavy
Filled with gloom
Starts to get lost in the crisis
Who once was in peace
Now craving for death
Losing all the faith
Begging for a cry
With the dark-
Circles and dry eyes.
Finally,
A fluffy looking
Cotton ball of white
Turns black, pale,
Dejected
Ultimately fall,
fall in the lap
Of mother,
The mother nature.
While seeking comfort.
©amberstuff
A