MAKERS

When the morning appeared

leaving behind the twilight era

I confront my equations

least they were getting solved;

I had another apple to fall

curious at my fronts

I begged some more nuts

searched the default makers,

made poised gesture

cant trace the effusive eyes,

learnt from my loyals!

The preaching still hit my lane,

they brew up the conducive strength.

When I troddle on my farm

I look at the barren lines;

birds come and fly by me,

taking me elevated and high

trees swing the rest;

I try with the best

air flows silently;

preaches lessons equally

Was I wrong in portraying them?

yet, they turn victorious,

being the makers of

this lost lass again!