I am not a scholar no man of knowledge
i am just that stutterin' guy on the ledge...

As i do not rhyme in metrics any more
i do not care as i used to write jambes...

There at the feet of that mountain ye'll see
a man carryin' two buckets towards a tree...

I lay on my back thinkin' at the stars
why i had to fight that many a wars...

I know at times i have lost my ways too
forgot 'bout efflorescences of truth...

There's no earthly muse but from God it is
for whatever is by the will of His...

Say troubled child, how come ye're givin' up
why would ye want to spill a life filled cup...

Oh you bringer of glad tides
His most ultimate of prides...

I see beauty in all of existence
as ver'ly as nature's own persistence...

She's always walked underneath that exact same sky
where later on their hearts met for the very first...

Now tell me what it is with this one day
upon which a wealthy world acts its play...

People do say alot of hurtful things
lettin' alone those acts they be playin...