And the path he left behind,
was as vast the he skies he looked at,
every footprint a cloud- white and soft.
The circle of life- but the line beneath the pen,
never overlaps, nor joins into one.
Regardless of these all-
the times hold a power mighty and strong,
erasing the sand from the deepest nook,
hiding the tree at the plainest look.
It bowed- in respect or despair,
......
And the path he left behind,
was as vast the he skies he looked at,
every footprint a cloud- white and soft.
The circle of life- but the line beneath the pen,
never overlaps, nor joins into one.
Regardless of these all-
the times hold a power mighty and strong,
erasing the sand from the deepest nook,
hiding the tree at the plainest look.
It bowed- in respect or despair,
......