For steady path lay'th deep,
a journey long and far to steep.
With amber and ashes we heap,
The fairest of nature's keep.
As the pallid yet palpable a'sphere bedew,
From saints to sinners shrew,
I shall paint this day a new,
where angels not lovers flew.

Be as it may, without cause
And reason to deceive. I have found,
That mere man, need not look at flaws;
Maintaining a skepticism that has no ground,
Rather, with proper inclination, needs but rise
And subdue from earth’s tempest its splendor,
Holding firm, as a sojourner, to his price.
Whilst be in the midst of unseen boon,
As adversity doth sup one’s vigor leaving them swooned;  
The treacherous climb, oft given with no script,
To slumber in the sepulcher, oft laden with crypt.