The sound of my footsteps; a hoping guidance to faith
My sound of breath teaches this blackness I’m alive in fate
The echoes tell me the journey is deep and far from over
My eyes, a drunken blind man, I feel far from sober
Skin is dry and cold, a symptom of no light
But though I’m driven by some divine force to fight
In my mind I ponder, what will the world think if I fail?
In my heart I wonder, how will it feel when I prevail?
This task of greatness shakes my guts
No choice now, I am no more men in huts
I hear drops of past storms telling stories of Maverick
The devil’s poetry, devious and mesmeric
My damp shoes are cold feet, at times I miss Mother’s towel
No more excuses, comfort zone of being fatherless

I continue reciting Tunnel…

Faith for the bathing ape
Case of caging the ape
I heard they even have it on tape
It hurts...this evil habit of ****
forget God, all I wanna do is escape
I get a job from a Man holding a banner, wearing a cape
He asks, “do you believe in faith?”
I’m masked, *“…do you see my face??”

The deserts' enigma as the sand tells stories of ancient civilisations, and the open air parallel suggesting stigmas of myth echoing apologies of Asian civil invasions. Wealth and Wisdom buried underground to hide the former faces, and so slow paces to mirages as a Man walks the ground to find the water oasis. Pressures of wind hugging to shape into a tornado, a Mother pushes waters to save the World with a Bambino. The inferno Sun sets on water or falls, crashes like a bashed tomato into lava erupting a volcano, but still rests on the water floor. Seas and Oceans are never cliché, but I feel farfetched where it's forlorn. See the emotions in my tears coz' I feel far attached before born...