What The Burning Sun Teaches Me...On Life Poem by Himanshu Mishra

Look up in the east, not up so high
Where endless oceans bleed into the sky
There I see a meek and figure-less sun
He was ignored just like a trigger-less gun
But that weak orange thing keeps on rising
Careless of the spark, nature keeps igniting
And like a foolish king, I stand with confidence
Laughing at misery, unknown of its blazing sense

Nature followed the way illuminated by that kid
His horrifying kingdom ruined all of my wit
The phenomenal emperor stands far above my head
They are but his servants by whom now I am fed
No, my eyes cannot bear the aura of his face
After each trial, my head hangs down in disgrace
My soul will burn if I fight him anymore
He has won the war, even my beating heart's core

Truth was foretold, Time spares none
Neither it spared, the invincible sun
The red sun is setting, his kingdom is over
His face ain't much clear, my vision is so blur
He must not be regretting for his unusual past
Darkness keeps invading, no signs of sun last
Such brave kids are not born every hour
He was a true winner, the ultimate sign of power

Someone is imitating him, not up much far
'You can't be my sun, he hasn't got any scar'
It is the moon and has got his soul, they say
The sun is still alive, living only too far away
O my holy God! Do not let him to die
He doesn't ask for something, I didn't ask him why
O dear world! Lets be altogether in this gloom
And pray for our savior, the rise of the precious boon!