Untitled-II

Once under the green sky, a boy sat,
Winds whispered into his ears, and he said
I am the king, I am master. Let there be no one like me,
I have seen what it is to be, to be what I see

Was it the sun, or the bright burning fire,
He didn't know, what gave him light.
But he just wanted to be the king, or so he thinks,
He just waited for the sun to die.

Days and days he waited for the sun to die,
But tired was he, and bored to the skin.
I don't want to be the king, he thought,
I want to be the next sun, says he.

So his search began, to be the sun to be the fire,
To set his step on, where nothing could even survive.
But little did he know, that the bright burning fire,
Was the last thing he would ever survive.