Choices decide so much,
Yet beauty exists even in woes,
Though we must avoid the shrouded thorn.
Friend of mine,
May your pen strike true,
And be filled with majesty evermore.
Dance on with joy,
And sing your hymn as you feel,
Never letting the setting sun cause despair.
Choices we decide,
Bring us to conflicts we rather avoid,
Because we do not understand the truth behind hints.
Yet the road is always paved,
In stones of different shades to say,
That the way is not a single road but many.
May your pen strike true,
And show whatever beauty you desire,
With hues of golden blue and shining silver.
Dance on,
With your life in full speed,
A