Where too, shall my soul seek immortality?
It hath been found in work and people — 
Are they not noble pursuits?
But Death they found, surrendered, feeble.

Heaven called, why not try I?
So sought and found sweet streams.
Rested but for a while — 
Until consciousness awoke my dreams.

Did not Shakespeare claim the pen,
Is mightier than the sword?
Now keys replace ink,
But still, words cannot be ignored.

Words create our worlds,
What doth they saying of you?
Breath sweeps o’er the mountains
Worry not the truth is still true.