Such a day has arrived when
All ideologies are certified to ideals.
It was a Friday morning, cold freezing winter
Feet truly swear to glass yet never fell to break.
Shoes pasted directly on the feet.
By the gate he was standing,
Very concerned across complications.
Stinky and filthy, no doubt
His life is very close to an end.
He stood like a giant I couldn’t
Catch yet like falling stars that never reach the soil.
He called me son; son; for his appearance
I couldn’t stop but for my culture I had to voucher.
Tears from his eyes pouring like the rivers
Towards the sea. Got touched but couldn’t touch
He then postured his face like a portray
Of flowers: for sure he started to state
Some bombs from his mouth.
He said son I could see that
Passion has derived patience;
Pain has diverted perseverance;
As your dreams conquered wishes,
And great thoughts of tomorrow.
Yes vision is stronger than salt in the
Sea but the mission is devalued.
Behind you in the back
Of your bag.
You have a shinning not divining
Star of all time.
Your journey is directed by
Pages carried by you.
For doctors and pilots
Engineers and genius
Technicians and technologist.
Those are the derivatives of the
Secret of written words.
All your friends are shamed by prison
Shaved by death and culled by stupidity.
I never knew but I surpass the
Strength of written words.
Go and shine like the sun on sunny day
Stars in clear night.
Go across the waves of the sea for
Now you know the ideal of your mission.
For with knowledge limitations
Are faked, divining is expressed.
For if the foundation is strong
Your house will never fall.