By MAYA GREEN
Everything has a place, an appointed time
A roaring tempest, has rhythm and rhyme
A bloom, it unfolds in the morning
But will be wilting, come the evening
You may not be able, to control the wind
But you can always study it, so to find
When to move at the right time
To the wind’s tempo, in step with its rhyme
He who stands, at the greatest height
Will be the loneliest, in the whole realm
Over his own ego, is his fiercest fight
His worst enemy, and deepest chasm
Nothing is done, sans a sense of discipline
And in this life, you’ll need plenty of it
No tree will last long, in face of the wind
Without the deep roots, needed to anchor it
Dateline:
4:39PM
May 19, 2024
M-City, KL
