Man Is Mankind.

A prosaic message about the same innate strive for perfection and art of imperfection that every man is born with.

Man is Mankind,
From the earthen to the last earth,
So is the birthed collage of ours,
Yes...You and I extensively,
That spouted in a crystal ball,
The blurred lines become dim,
Haaaaa...what unclear knotted rim,
Even the seer and the wise men,
Are left befuddled and constricted.

It may start sweet and licking,
At the shepherd's fold wherein,
Lay a priceless jewel of esteem,
For the fathers and mothers,
The SUN shone outside inside,
Makes the blossom open its eyes,
Welcome to the Wild World.

The blueberry so know then,
No choice does not choose willingly,
The place and pillars of the shroud cry,
Yet, the father accepted nodding,
Yet, the mother accepted nodding,
The child has no qualms or queer
What it is...What will be!

The task of their kind hood,
The little tot will meander through,
Of the best crescent, of the despicable terrain,
That is just the surface rough patch,
The deep of the deeper depth,
The travail and triumph kindled.

If life will be fair to fair one, fortunately,
If life will be fair to fair one Belaboured,
Begrudgingly seething out early dawn,
Heading haunted and hurtful at the sunset,
Such that the few haves are chilling,
In the warm ice cold of their penny crust,
Making questions rubbing on sensibility,
Questions that have made many beastly,
Astray from their heavenly's vow,
Drought in the mildew of fatality,
That men do for their fellow mankind,

Whatever, man birthed princely,
Whatever, man birthed lowly,
The race of life is not for rats,
Not even for the Lion-king liking,
Not even the wisdom of the cunning,
Akin to the queerly Tortoise.
Least of the Eagle beastly tap,
None of the divinely diviner-Adifala,
Who will chant and cast the shells,
To seek the face, flight in the Gods,
Knocking destinies and fraying artillery,
Smashing the enmeshed riddles,
Of the pains and fatality abound,
That every mankind has a share of,
Not one is left out of the share,
Even the one in celestial figuration,
Who will throng with Tardiness,
Except not born of women.

What is etched on the palms cease,
The gift to the seer and seek for torts,
I saw it all glare,
The Token told might augur width,
The Token told might augur breadth,
Keeping solemnly or seething,
Inks brewing and cleansing,
E-L-E-D-U-M-A-R-E!

Man is Mankind,
Mankind is Man,
The garden to now guarded!
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