I sought for a home, 

Where those at home 

I can call my own

And those to which I'm prone 

Are not drones. 

Searches I made for happiness, 

Riches I got as sorrows. 

My inner chamber, 

So milked like a due cattle. 

In eyes so sulked

And jaws oddly slacked, 

I rattled. 

I now moan like a dove in pain. 

Amazingly, I clamour;

Fading to gain, 

Gnashing to dash, 

Pains untold now sold. 

In silence I recoiled to my shell, 

Since there exist non to tell

'Silence' they say answers best 

Yet in silence lies my rest 

In here, no sun to make hay while it shines

Neither are they foliages;

That are greener than limes. 

I'm thrust down, 

But this my reality. 

Looking at my very self, 

I'm full of sympathy.