One can’t resolve every question
One can’t storm every bastion
The needle in the haystack one should forsake
A dream shouldn’t go beyond daybreak
There is no meaning in midnight oil
when we only need a season’s harvest from the soil
The tongue gets scalded from water on the boil
A heart goes bankrupt from too much toil
Beauty lies in the pasture, cruelty in the pursuit
Sublime dignity is the key to whatever lies afoot
Climbing an icy mountain with a frosty foot
Does it pay to sacrifice honour for all that loot?
Appetite is a morbid platter if there’s heaps to dine
Overambition is inebriating, but toxic like wine
Aspirations are fine, but must not be more than nine
The murder of the soul is having too much pine
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