The Quest
The Quest
8/7/2006
A nice subject to me now put to the quest,
Intensity of pain now blows to theheart.
One shall not give up so easy this fast,
To ease the matter, solve it or justified.
For thy, among master of work a creator,
Thy able, thy can turn the fate your way.
You may forget the things done in past,
For it makes intensity of pain grow vast.
Never to frustrate from happened past,
Not to ashamed if fate turned in past.
If the things go wrong, correct them,
Or escape like in flood the soft grass.
For soft heart are like growing flowers,
Either blossomed or disgraced dried.
Not to be disgraced with the things,
For the much life to live happily is fore.
Choose the things better suit to peace,
Huh, it is the chapter to learn completely.
Your excellent poem impact sharp flow,
Rhyme dropped like Angel’s Waterfall.
Drops from the heights of the senses flying,
To depths of exclaiming my sinking heart.
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