Baskadia

NIGHT BREAK UP.

Cloud leaves sky bare
To the direction of wind
A farmer watch in frustration
Holding is engorged tilling tool

The farmer locks back his tool
Lit fire in the hut quickly
For winter was beginning
And seat close in great ponder

Wilting Bush then whispers to the farmer
Silently that nobody else could hear
Heavy black clouds in sky
A times they don't guarantee rain

The hut is in good size and enough
But your pocket betrayed you
Disagreeing with your outlook
That why moistured wind blew the cloud.