A Lucky Man and the Drunk Sun

Fancy a man who’s held by the wait, -
He is a Lucky man…
And his rueful song with his gleam…,
See,  it’s damp!
Listen to words, - those all are wet
For him,
And his destiny’s cup of tears brims
of his
Well, radiant sun, you are not for me,
You’re for those monsters, whose blood is humidity,
Well, rebellious sun, you’re strayed by way,
And your splinters in pools are in vain,
For those piques of sharks are  your rays,
Not for people whose way out is mazed.
Well, you, tipsy sun harboured  not right quay,
Stop  bewildering, lingering, splintering, see?

You are frame of world, or you are not?
Catch my soul, but not my head, - it’s caught!
If you’re sun, do not leave me in lurch,
If you’re sun, do not give me this torture,

Well, the drunken sun, like  a  bee,
Do alter the world for people and me,
So squander the light for my friend, please,
Keep your fingers crossed for our bliss.