A little thought

Sometimes beaten by adversity,
sometimes lost to wishes..

It's a partridge of an angry sun..
Who does have even the slightest of reservations, 

It doesn't ever bows to any pressure.. 

It doesn't care about the boundaries that the world follows,
The earth of the heart is dry,
The moisture is lost somewhere..

Even having borne the attacks of love,
and losing you again and again,
it still doesn't learn to plot against you...