The Rising Sun

Wary of what would tomorrow bring

A rubbish persona has begun his fiddly acts.

Everything would soon vary in million ways

Inside this green labyrinth.

Cries  are heard from here below

Many are frightened of his filthy game

Blubs surely make him fall down, laughing

While criticizing the poor souls in front of him.

We know, it’s only a hoax.

Still, it doesn’t make any difference.

All of the wrongs made are done.

It’s payback time for him.

Then after he draws his daggers on the offenders

They will all vanish like a mystery

‘Til  the time everybody realizes the errs

Up to the time when everybody sees

The next Rising Sun casts its rays.

Note: This is an original poem by Red Phantom.