On the way, thou cruise,

the art’s learnt, the art to tame,

thy name the skies reverberate,

such lofty would be the fame.

The milestone, a stone’s throw,

thy praise as branches of oversize tree,

glare thou do at the past roads,

as a blossom, there I will always be.

Thou pluck me, like any human hand,

tracing my non existing fragrance,

lively by thy scintillating touch,

I move into a state of trance.

The day the sweat’s over,

decked out in accolades by each,

that time I wither away,

out forever, out of thy reach.

A chum, when thou long for,

a longing heart out of limits,

to know the truth, only truth,

a larger truth made of bits.

To relieve of a quandary, thou ask,

answers He when thou look up,

“the flower he was, thou kept for eons,

not wilting, to see thy at the top.”