Lies the stairway to heaven,
And eternal peace.

There’s a river i know
Whose name i, often, forget,

Spend time with Silence
For, wisdom lies there,

Gloat not, O misfortune
Your triumphs are not eternal,

If Birds were Man’s Mentor
Would we a better breed be
 

The cradle of friendship
Is too delicate for words

For all my proclamations  of belief, 
Which in intent and conviction are true,

Endless, fruitless, journeys
That we oft embark upon,

In the precincts of the mind,
In the fortress I call mine,

O Demise, thou art a friend true
When I feel lost and dark blue