For a child once laid upon the field, of which an empty park rested,
And stared into the night skies, towards the stars, gracefully blessed,
A ferris wheel hath stood before his view, which ponders his thoughts,
For his life too, be but a wheel, a cycle, that lives but moments forgots,
Shall he treasure the moments of which his dearest breath blows,
Or live’st the days unknowingly lacking of a meaningful purpose,
Oh, for the dearest stars may glister to light the midnight skies,
Shall even the falling stars pass through his glowing innocent eyes,
Oh, but to be an innocent wandering child, for many shall wish again,
To hold such innocence without both society’s shackles and chains,
To possess the eyes that glare into the dreaming midnight sky,
And to hold such idiotic bombastic dreams that shall never die,
To be fearless of inevitable failure and fearless of seeping love,
And even to be fearless to face alone the Heavens above.
For may never again shall we hold the mind of our childhood self,
Hath, both maturity and society values our minds unwillingly engulfed,
For hath we made such greatsome dreams that failed to succeed,
As no longer are we children who call upon the stars for our deeds.