Burnt in The journey long

Flying fumes and dancing flames that burns the man's mantle to a molten mound and moulds into varied shape
Hardened then broken and bursted to an array of patterned portraits with sprinked mesh work of Laughs and teardrops and grizzling states
He runs across to emboss and immerse in paints
To thread and weave and stain the lanes
And when in the surging streams he lost his stay
Sparkles of the night kindled his way
He lived and feathered and relished his time
Till his sights got condensed by a cloudy slime

Dusted and wrinkled in the journey long
He sits and ponder the fate to come
What a man holds but his deeds to take
The virtuous is hereby taking the break
Autumns would leave the life to rust
And pinch the pain in the withering gust
Yet again buds will bloom with a great might
And haze will subside in the heavens light