The Songs of the meadow

Morning mist descended like the clouds that clothe the amber’s veil
While it wraps around the restlessness of solitude, it condones the bearings of juvenile
AS teardrops of vapor faded, a shimmering silhouette dangle
Behold! A lovely deity of never land summersaulted our very eyes

In the midst of orchard, she dances gracefully with reverence to her beauty, the gaiety of adulation triumphs!
As she froths the grassland with her footings. The meadow presides with adoration.
As vernal season settles once in a while, conclusion of desire ends.

When we lament our pride anguishly , we lay our heads up high!

To watch silly things that merry round in the skies
We catch one’s breath like lilies float in the banks of irrawaddy river
As it reflect the mirror of one’s self-denial.

Drawn back by hourglass in hand, we glaze Adma’s Ale with serenity

It flows, gush and breeze the torments of life.
AS we are drifted fathomless in the sway of grave depression
With elegance, against the delusion of sorrows

Stand one’s ground, as what we conclude, but nonetheless

We submit thy appeasement as we deplore the judgment of the wise
Here we stand united, asunder we fall
For the derision will spoil the broth of spell.

Alas! We sit in the midst of meadow slumbering the ages of tempo

As we mound the alluvion, sneaky as the drizzle pours down
We embrace and entwine the agony running after the rainbow.
It pleases more to seek its majestic window, as our eyes closes down.

rhydel dogadle