The roots of an old tree go deep,
The learning in one's life is always steep.
My soul is in search of what is mine
And shun mediocre to be divine.

On my journey I stumble, I fall,
Every other being seems cruising always tall.
My battles, to them, a chance to fleer,
Oh! How they mould the child with fear.

Every grimace eclipsed by a pitied soul, 
Building a remorse all too foul.
An edifice that shatters under a cloud so mope,
How do you find all pieces with full hope?

The tempests of my mind all tucked in a pack,
I now have to build my serene den back.
Another battle to unlock the chains free, 
I hope to win with blessings of Thee.

Inside a furnace, every bruise that lashes,
A diamond shines through the ashes.