The rose’s stem,
Through concrete, he’s outgrown his hem.
The colors now blend, and he is now one with himself.
He’s modeled himself after great men, and learned as much as he can — from divine feminine.
He’s made all kinds of mistakes, but still he is full & whole.
No body is perfect, and so he crafts his soul.
He is passionate and curious,
He is masculine and furious.
He walks through the fire, as the moments no longer seem dire.
He walks up his mountain, and awakes in the morning as he aims higher and higher.
Overcoming such ills, he’s on his way to higher ground.
He feels it in his mind, he knows it because he feels fine.
Not anymore, is he depressed.
Not anymore, does he feel less.
He feels in the game, the struggle and hustle of life.
Understanding what’s around him, society isn’t so bad.
And the darkness of life, doesn’t make him feel so sad.
He is turning things right, as he waits for the thunder to strike…
Consistency is what’s right.
He is officially a light.