Yonder in a bushy freezing cold,

I yelped as I saw a riding butterfly to mold,

From the deepest of a lively rise,

In the mountains of a dark light,

I see a sturdy mundane,

When I realise why my Sunday,

Is  clouded with Misty fog,

And not a flying log,

I just see my vision,

Never realise a failed mission......

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Meaning :-
Life is not what you see,
But it is what you realise....