In
smoke that decayed and those drops with storms,
In
heat, solicited snow to cease it & not let it spout;
When
in the queue stood a calm & composed eyes that drew,
Though
with fate had some grudges but lessened with glimpse,
Of
'Scent' that filled lungs in abundance like on shore with winds;
Had
languished the boat sailed, no 'will', as was shackled,
And
hope stuck being invaded amidst myriad thwacking;
Where
Water was beneath & surrounded with, one that breathes,
But
for single drop sailed, being brave, in desperate to appease;
In
calm ocean chortled whereas storms gesticulated goodbye,
But
not the only boat that was lost as many emerged in sight.