In long lasting fortitude is the fight of the astute.
A lot of effort is made towards the war of the moral.
And a race towards life is the route.
Preparing the endless fit of strength of all.
There is he who is choosing his fate.
Working hard despite all opposers’ bait.
There is he who is choosing life.
Working hard despite all opposers’ strife.
Lost in the dirt, seeking out of the ruse.
Forced towards the light, brighter and rife.
No letting up despite the refuse.

Clean is the proud, and happy, the player of the flute.
A rite of passage for all is the praise of the immortal.
War is the only dispute
Death is not fatal.
The renegade does not enter the gate.
He is stuck outside the city, and left without state.
The renegade does not know his wife.
He is stuck at heart and can’t even play a fife.
In the dirt he is and is with a lot of abuse.
He cannot escape the knife.
Cut, cutting up despite the accuse.

Reality is but the face of cute.
Subjected to falsified doctrine and the immoral.
It is callous and as rotten fruit.
Moxie exists with everyone no matter how small.
Can the one who is happy learn to hate?
Only he or she can solve this debate.
Finally the long absent sky above the Alewife.
Can’t say that I have seen such teeming wildlife...
Swimming in a sea of its Muse.
The lowly continue their sighs
But I do proudly diffuse.


.This plight of mine is hard to toot.
Exemplified by my emphasis on the astral.
With which I dress in an armoured suit.
So my enemies do not mute my oral.
and the skies do tell in high rate,
How esteemed they are on time and ne’er late.
But giving ever virtuous despite
All those dead or dying, without prospect of afterlife.
It is their way to choose:
The dark abyss of guise,
(or) The gentle river of blue

For now I do keep silent, But still I commute,
With those of higher propositions and goal,
So I do instill thyself a deeper root.
In the waterbed truly formal.
Those who truth ‘I do navigate’
and those of lies ‘I do alienate’
At a loss O’ man or mesmerize,
Work harder on thoughts than just plagiarize.
The foes of old are still and sleuth
I show them love and they in lies are baptized
Tradition is there with purpose, don’t misuse.

I see to it the wise stay wise,
For better they will strategize.
And the unwise, wisdom they will pursue.
Giving them their much needed paradise.
And the lost I will use.

I had no time to waste,
Everything I knew would hinder me.
And she kept following with vigor
More friendly than enmity.

Nor had I time to eat, but since
Some timely hare is ye
And a little mad hatter of thought.
Was slow enough for me.

Clashing at gold, is a folly surely,
As bashing at skulls; is a scarring thing.
Turmoil for those who weep but rarely,
ye have set aflame the fiery king.
He burns those who persecute under his wing,
Whom he reflects with a tornado flame.
His realm expands and as his subjects sing:
“Ye King Of Fire triumphant your reign.
Forever may you stay as king and all be tamed.”

He pardons all who try to be godly.
And he destroys those who are not trying.
The King Of Fire Singes the unworthy.
And protects those who are under his wing.
He commands the skies and the one sighing.
He always protects his queen just the same.
The flame he controls mirrors the stunning,
The force he utilizes reveres his name.
The force of ground, and fire and sky is his fame.

The quest through skies,
Is as the quaking ground,
So hard to bare.

Firstly the sun must rise.
And then you must: Westward bound.
The quest through skies.

Toward the sun, the airship flies.
Despite the troubling winds and echoing sounds.
So hard to bare.

Daunting shrieks and eerie cries.
Baring until the North star at night is found.
The quest through skies.

Instead of your worthless demise,
You must set the airship on hard ground.
So hard to bare.

And the quest is complete, a great prize.
Had you looked all around.
The quest through skies,
So hard to bare.