Delving into their own secrets
Man, is God’s only imperfection.
Why deemed so low, low deemed it itself,
It, thing is not, then why hopelessly insane.
Foresaking the values, it lowers down,
From bounties of love into endless frown.
On wiser occasions of dying fame,
It vents in the tears of happiness,
Of common things and legacy
Fallacy in chosen paths one cannot see.
For it to become he,
Is knitting the words to life
Every letter placed in synchrony,
Every sentence is its symphony.
And then the final journey set
Treading the soul in valiant ways.
To reach the peak, beautiful the path must be.
Its grace seeps in till eternity.