I do have a blue bird,
He is shy or feelingless can't be expressed in word.
If I do love him, he remains in hiding,
Again looks sad when I stop loving.

He feels happy when I am sad,
He shows how intensely he is glad.
Is the bird consequence of my vice?
I cry and cry but to him it's so nice.

Is he the outcome of my vice or virtue done unknowinly?
My desert Sahara is transformed into a rainforest suddenly.
How can I tolerate this innundating rain?
Why are clouds so busy to make greenery with pain?

O cloud! Please stop stop this constant downpour,
Please stop this strike of water, this cruel roar.
I know it's not real but spell of sorcery,
Can water extinguish my inner blazing and misery?