This story, my story,
begins at the brink of day with my morning glory
and this glory, that I've been given,
will not soon be driven
from this world in which I've striven
for so long and unrelenting
but not all too consenting,
rather lamenting has it been
for yet have I not seen
many things so beutifully serene,
but I have endured
this chaos as I have lured
behind the giants and inured,
becoming more and more allured
by these sensations
from all our nations
and their deterring foundations,
as thrilling as this flower
from which I cower
as from a meteor shower,
but it is as astounding
as it is confounding
when my soul it is surrounding
as I'm on the brink of death
and wake up with a panting breath.