Way Up

All effort seems dim Placing the glories up like kaola Buried in the earth_seeds! Longing for its manifestation; willy-nilly, Enclosing the trust appearance, Like the ovule in guavas. It's like ache, When not gotten quick, but nay, Waiting, patience. Oh! The days are counted, But the life in the days; not, Pierced, may not by death, Stucked even by it, Unleashed like the open seal Hills on hill, wheeled by doubt, Of glory, or failure. Not in its beauty. Ashore, in the forlorns, I believe Composing the... Not a dirge, waiting for the future to tell Starting from the slum, Striving for the best, better, or at worse; good! Quiet but wasn't mime, For all that is mine might be more than nine, Just like the precipitation of stars on clouds Waiting till dark to make them shine. Ding dong, dong, not dung, Sound it must, when the time comes, As the last shaol shooting sharp towards destruction But my mind stayed, not lost, Making a bright tomorrow 's next Just like stars on delightful faded clouds Just like not of voice; singsong. Echoing until it becomes lost.