Down the path of countless roads
When on our backs we carry loads
To choose a path where fate shows
A path to pick, to pick and go
As moons and stars guide the night
The day escorted by zealous sunlight
May all unwind be blind at sight
Thus art thou future have its light
To tread a lane too long to end
Somnolence rose to wield one's hand
Soon to doze off on hard cold land
Failure and despair became a trend
A warrior whose pride riegns high and might
Shall not surrender without a fight
Be it defeat or be it victory
Tales of brave warriors go down in history.
To be called human
Is praise, no less
But called a vermin
Seriously, a pain in the ass
This poem may seem to have gone off a bit
But tales are long and tend not seem fit
Hence a tribute to tales that once were fit
A toast to all seniors to cheer up a bit
yeah yeah, a stupid poem, don't bad mouth me, my time ain't much so it's dumb and stupid and it's been rewritten tons of times...
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