Steps by steps many thread the pathAs the gentle shrub grows, grows the lineEach day a history shelved in the flatsAs nature wet wits and dries our wilesTill we all go to bed and never apart

The soft sauntering of anguishNever lets the gullible knowThat he who seeks to plunderMust be armed by some godsAnd be armored in Damascus steel

A loosened spirit is what I seekSo I can thread the vast land of illumination

Hey, you horror of shade and loomShall find me unafraid and unfazedThe bloody wounds and strait gates matters notI, the unbowed captain of my fateShall place the bludgeoning sage of chance away

You can either howl or braceFor the morrow comes twice as meanEither way you decide tomorrow’s fate

The past is pastThe future is all that mattersBut sometimes we lie deep in the past that we forget we can’t alter its storyAnd sometimes we surge far ahead that we forget we don’t have tomorrow in our palms

This is more real than the living manI still bask in rays of bewilderment from BethlehemWith its dusking evenfallThis noon dream rends Athena’s glimAs its symphony can’t be chained in sleep

Oh, you can’t look back, it’s not kinderI say not not fall, but always rise againThe stairs of life isn’t cheesy and plum

This Okedare isle bears truthful mythsOf the sacred mountain many only wonderThe juju mountain of jebba, so famed the town’s terrorWhere few returns if ever threads