" The world's a stage where every man must play his part. "
A rare few are born with an innate ability to sleepwalk through their part. A victor by destiny...
For the rest in this mortal orb, it's more about adapting to the part to emerge unscathed at the end of the play...
And that I believe is not a mean feat either. But there needs to be some constant source of inspiration that would keep the blood flowing in the sinews long enough to ensure that you sojourn on till you take the final bow...
And there will never be a greater source of inspiration to journey on than the sun...
For you know deep within that however dark and despondent the night may be, the sun shall rise again the next morning and chase all the shadows away. Its done so before the diluvial and will do so beyond it as well.
This unequalled heroism calls for an ode to the beacon of our lives...
Thou beauty stands undiminished
Having survived the ravages of time;
Thy burning passion cannot be extinguished,
For Thou art so noble, so sublime.
On the Earth on which Thou shines
Where good has always been ephemeral;
Except for that divine beam of Thine,
Which has been forever eternal.
Thou splendour melts away the darkness
And with it the unwonted fears of night;
For even ghosts, with all their vileness,
Would endure not, Thou unusual might.
Only Thy can say good from evil
For Thine has seen all; one by one;
The newborns and the dead, the saints and the devils,
For there is nothing new under the Sun.
