The legacy

It is while the slumber gets deep

the mystries sprouted get ready to reap.

Each day's work knocking the inner door

Where Will is the potential wind that blows.

The blissful beams from the golden eye

of sudden bursts to signify

Never of chance is man's fate

Unless to watch its dance, he waits.



Hither directs each contracting breath

Further away from the path of death.

The oars; the boat of Will - thus row

when intelligence can trudge no more

to seek the secrets - the unknown stream

which meanders arround eternity.



Unfold then, these images of life

Retrace - the miles of inner reality.

Where reason dread one further step

Faith- unperturbed went ahead

The ordeal of reason could not meet

the juglary of such unconceivable feat.