Sprouting seeds lift up some mother earth
The environment gets a new survivor
From the unknown extremities of universe
Comes home a new beginner
He absorbs the air around him
And treasures on the vegetation
Sticks to the ground all the time
Extends his branches for anything prime
He sees, cares, sleeps and understands
The spontaneous encroachment of life
He teaches him and also gets taught
About his existence and how to thrive
When he thinks for himself
His only wish is to see the sun
Ahead and brighter than all
So that he can feel the heat
Standing upright and tall
The buzz of his ambition
Gets empowered by the noise of beetles
Which has affected his life since
He was a baby
Playing in his cradles
He saw himself a dwarf to others
He saw himself dull and inferior to others
The beetles gave him foresight what
Worse can happen to him regarding others
Once the beetles stopped buzzing
The tree, unguided and uninterrupted
Grew a long way, a stage came
When he didn’t at all got scepted
This brought him into a state
Where his vision, was blocked by some fog
Some gloomy and hazy days passed
Without clearing the foggy mob
A group of young restless and untamed monkeys
Dwelled on the trees consent
Left some impact on it but
Moved his mind from what’s happening recent
This monkeys and fog drove his mind
The competitive fervor in him was unable to find
Although he had before him an axe to grind
He enjoyed the monkeys, and thought them to be kind
A blazing streak of lightning struck the tree
Some of the monkeys left it free
The tree was wounded badly
And the fog cleared partially
This blow revived the tree’s will to grow
And it continued proceeding unwell
When he saw all the fog move
He could do nothing but yell
With a wearied foliage and bare trunk
Rusty leaves and branches shrunk
He kept on growing just to see the
Fame of glowing sun
By some time he grew a big branch
That peered over the foggy venue
He saw shrubs have grown bigger than him
And he was smallest in the avenue
Fog soon swept away and now dusk and noon
He thinks of being someone else
Sometimes hero sometimes goon
He lets has thought drift away from reality
Here he is downtrodden and depressed
Sees ample signs to grow and recess
He doesn’t wishes again for some
Fog and monkeys to come and hinder his progress
The tree is my human self the fog
Holy home, the thunder my +2 results
The monkeys are my new friends
And the neighboring trees old
The foliage is my confidence
The trunk my fundamentals
The leaves are my strength
The branches my commitment.