As the pages slide to yet another yonder of canvases,
one can only ponder upon the seared images of the past smiles.  

Nothing was ever so evident as to where the dices rolled,
but it was certain to land in the mist and shadows of hues!

In youth I would have shook by the self casted shadows,
but the silence of the nights dissipated smoke to clarity.

One does not lose everything to stay at the bottom,
for falling so low would only move to elevate and progress.

Even if you fall and break every piece of your bones,
what does not flatline your pulse will bring you back rebuilt!

So sail like the adventurer, or pioneers who would ***** a temple upon the new world ripe for a firm grasp.

For no one was ever worthy to prescribe a gift of life,
but to dare dream and articulate your envisioned pages of future.