The street children

The boy stood leaning against the wall
As if the wall it self tending to take its lap
To have gestures in a feeling of love and intuition
Forever bereaved and lost everything in the meadow.
The boy has none in question of kith and kin
He is a blustered child who has no faith;
Everlasting  cropping up associations with none.
He is a beggar but not begging from door to door
He seems to be amazing fallen child on the earth.
Only God is his dependence to pull his livelihood.
A beggar has no duty to complete like others
It is not a profession but common to all
In the society of bereaved children who are desolated
Not only that it has not recognition on earth
But they are not thief as if they are fortunate
In the sense they dislike dishonesty and malpractice,
They have wide ranging abhorrence in the midst
In general and usual practice of life.
They differentiate  between the lubricant and the water
As if the the two souls are bestowed in line with
For getting the source of pleasure and life
In the depth of truth and  precision comprising real world.  

The prancing power of the Tome

In the history of daylight and ever growing the sun
The hectic rays never permits to melt down the beams;
As if moved by the stone stiffed inside the mine
In the hole of the meadow in the dawn of the earth.
Even the cluster in motion can never be moved
For ever lasting sanctification of the placatory Mars.
In the Tome, the history of  Astrophysics  in lining
For sole galaxies and the starry skying forthwith
Never disappears than twinkling from the source
As glittered in the creativity of the earth;
In the face of nature, plants and animals
To confront all the time for balance evaporating.
Not in the zoo or in the dead house of  the gallery.
These are like piles of knowledge heaped up
In the wake of dark and deep light of the lackluster
Underneath the intensive starry stones
Glittered and twinkled in the horse shoe nail.
Rather than stealing the wealth in broad day light
But by way of spontaneous thinking jots in lair
While processing the stealth in the profound cave
As if it has been domitable to explore the dead thoughts
For days come and gone by never comes back
For switching the difficulties hereinafter.