Till the day man goes to his eternal home,
Up and down this world he continues to roam
Frozen by the cold rain in the night
And warmed in a sunny day
Till the day air can no more seesaw in and out his lungs
He remains in the battlefield to make a way
A path his successors should find easier than he had
The bruises of a pathmaker must he incur because of a desirable future for his descendants he fights to secure

For the visionary man knows that
To make a better tomorrow
He must live like today is a borrow
A stuff not t spend on luxuries but to be invested in order to look back at and use as the foundation of his success storeys

Let the torn have her pound of flesh
Let the stones have their own next
As far as the skin is not taken away
The scars will only be the witness of the way

On and on he moves the success road till he sees that something improves

If our father's had remained in Babel till our days
The rest of the world would have been left a thick forest
A place crying to be discovered
So as life remains in the body of man
The task of getting the day's job done must he man
And that remains the plan