The Golden Axe. Poem by Binayakumar Mohanty

The wood cutter boy
is with utter dismay
something precious
it must be
he has lost as if,
he is in agony
pale turned his face
so gracious.

Neither the axe of steel
nor even of gold he claims
at his will.

Unlike the first, honest wood cutter,
he is no careless so
he is not
like the second one
with the intent evil too

The god of the forest
on him pleased though
his mood looked still low.

Nothing he wants
with no pain to gain
the golden axe he'll never claim
he goes not to pollute his
fathers name.

Some thing precious must
he has lost, so worried
plunging in to darkness
goes he buried.