Ages You Live Poem by Deb Panda

Far above the horizon my thoughts lay-
In vivid sketch down the heavy clouds;
Distant to gloom and the rays I behold-
The virtue, I own with my words.
Ideal, with the passive and roaming,
For the fortune; blessed with pain-
In wee hours we bow-for the fountain dazzling;
In dark; in anarchy above the earthly human.
Honesty- own with the troubled bird-
From early ages; to shifting time-
For the worth bestowed onto human,
For the ages I trust; ages of prime.