In a copper afternoon, wish I could go back five summers thrice,
Breathing life in those frenzies of half pants and size fours.
When unmanned foundations invited pirates and princesses alike,
Thus perfected into mighty castles of wisdoms, hollow and sore.
As the day grew shorter with receding horizons,
The iron men with heads held high, violated the clouds.
With a million eyes that came alive, the whole moon long,
Advancing the crowd of nightwalkers, the darkness that shrouds.
The nightwalkers shone and arose, so did increase their fall,
For every wishes and curses, they took along.
Introductions and conclusions of every letters endured,
Handsome breasts coming alive whereas some died in nests secured.