My Umbrella

My umbrella shrinks and flies away
unable to withstand the stormy wind,
as would a theif escape the claws of the police,
my adamant hand clings to balance the black protector,
yet the protector is protacted by a more forcible force:
the dark colour dances to a pathless way,
boldly combats the ruling kite,kisses the rustling leaves,
runs to a corner to be confronted by a tree.
The protesting kite gets torn ,adamantly waves,
waves to rule the sky:the tree seems to be an asylum
to this refuge,like a lizard hanging up the branches,
the freedom is curbed ,curbed and controlled!