Sometimes in the big rush, I forget
That in the end, I’m just a man.
The dreamer within fails to detect,
I could go only so far, even if I ran.

It’s okay to be hurt, sad and lost,
If today, that is the man I am.
No pain worth paying the cost,
Of changing the soul’s plan.

The dreamer dreams, but the man lives,
In a world with songs of sorrow.
Learning how to accept and to forgive,
Himself, his yesterday, and tomorrows.

Generously as I give, I shall also accept,
In weakness, there is a strength great,
For what soul, is one too perfect?
And what river runs on its path straight?

I wanted to know what was real knowledge,
so I went to the wisest master, God,
Not to learn things of school or college,
But to go where no foot has ever trod.
.
God said," I know what you seek, child,
But if real knowledge is what you wish to gain,
You venture into mountains dark and prairies wild,
And go through joyful hurt and honoring pain."
.
I was ready to put up resistance,
Said God," To men you shall speak,
Who are the wisest of this existence,
And at the end you shall get what you seek."
.
And so I went to the Physicists,
On whose principles this world exists,
They asked, “Pascal’s law, Bulk modulus, Doppler effect, can you tell?"
I said," No sir, but like Newton, even I wondered why the apple fell."
"Sacrilege!" they said," You inelastic plastic, may your soul rest in hell."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Then I went to the scholars of Chemistry,
Who are the wisest in mankind's History,
They asked me," What about Dalton's law, KTG, inorganic Benzene, can you say?"
"Nothing, sir, but I wonder about molecules and atoms, night and day!"
"Sacrilege!" they said, " You miserable molecule, May in hell your grave lay."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Then I went to the supreme Mathematicians,
Whom I consider as God's own magicians,
They asked me," What on methods of solving DEs, LMVT, can you speak?"
"Nothing, sir, but I work on theorems of Euler, the mathematician Greek."
"Sacrilege!" they said," You rootless equation, may you end up in the Devil's steak."
But I remembered God's words and moved on.
.
Indeed, I felt sorry for their and the future generations' plight,
But at the end of the road, I realized God was right,
It’s not about knowing Pascal's, Dalton's or Euler's shouts,
Its knowing how to live life to your fullest, every time you breathe in and breathe out.

I wonder, sometimes, what it's like,
Life, beyond this pale, grey sky,
Damaged, torn from horror and spite,
Is this world insane, or am I?
.

Once a meadow green, lays now this land barren,
This silence sickly, was once broken by the music of the raven,
Sunlight once flooded bright, the bleak blemish behind which I now cower,
The landscape of mind, was once where had bloomed the flowers.
.

And as these walls close in, and fades away the place,
Weak, trembling, writhing, I give in,
As I look at the white cloaked mans' face,
And his nod of approval, as I fall into the void within.
.
A sea of white.
The raven from childhood.
.
Sing to me raven, I beg, take me there,
To the place where I was alone and happy,
I begin to wonder, as he silently stares,
Was a curse of time, this, or am I the watchmaker?