Forever is a giant ground, 
Where buried roots live in hope. 
Though, dead in earth and weak beyond
The realistic of growth scientifically.

Unless been uprooted and cast in fire, 
It remains a new seed to sprout new desires. 
Studies often wonder how each get to cope--
The threat of call, hope yield basically.

But men are death bound;
For all days spend are counting down to reluctant yawned
And when they bow to breath's failure, 
Casket becomes the precious treasure.

Far away from human comprehension:
Is the programmed time of ascension;
Placing humans' hope above the one of the tree--
That in heaven, everyone gets to see.

Truly, for humans is judgment. 
Of course, on earth lies adjustment. 
Definitely, tree don't live off earth
When at the end comes final death.

Certainly, for hope is probability.  
"With wishes, let no man acquire assurance"
Meanwhile, for mercy is possibility. 
" With favour, let all receive insurance"

Rora búgà, when sun rises. 
Se pélè, when your cap spreads. 
Fùn eran; mushroom improvises.
Lòótò, good is thy sweet fleshy head.

Kisses set awesome schedule for nights. 
Bullies loose rest in mornings, 
When willful motives come out bright-
Shining its dim light so adorning...