Daffodil's March 

Damned by the color of yellow, they march forward with the wind,
Only a twist of light from above gives them hope,
There nothing in the latter from the voice of the above,
But only one thing in the mind, nay a rainbow falls down,
Each singing voice is not unlike a whisper or the despair,
If anything this trace has become a long lost secret given part,
That is one thing that remains constant throughout stock and breeze...

Daffodil's March.