Eye And Sky Poem by Timothy Faboade

Which has a more contentful bank
I once in my mind thought,
Each with its strength fought
Till both at night went blank.

Yet when in the morn wakeful I lay,
The very battle at once resumes
Ending it at once I quickly assume
For as an onlooker I am often frail.

Very wide and large is the sky
Spreading itself to cover the planet,
Or let's say it's the Earth's blanket
Designed and sewed with no style.

When it opens its bank, the lands
Roofs, seas, heads have their shares
And for the green ones it cares
And the content comes in brands.

So, larger we think the sky's fount
Whittling down the eye's power
Which though can usurp Eiffel tower
If not for its bounty!

But the head's lamp no season
Knows: rainy or dry it flows
Its fluids: in joys or woes
And releases water from its prison.

What happens to the eye's content
Not to the sky it vanishes?
Or does the sky that replenishes?
Sky's content is but lent!

How do I become a fair judge
In this battle of supremacy
And for the world leave a legacy?
To none's claims will I budge!