They Forgets.

The birds are tired I miss their beautiful songs The morning songs I likes There no songs at all from birds They are late comers now They are behaving like distressed ones It is the drought that makes them difficult To make a beautiful sound After drinking and cooling themselves They have lost the vigor They forgot to sing The praise of joy to the all powerful They expects for a shower anytime But poorly misses the happening The shades of trees are missing The scorching sun destroyed the greenery The birds are tired Tired enough and not possible to sing Tired enough and not to welcome the sun.