The winds will still blow, as another of those years goes by,
seems like hours ago, that I had glanced upon the world of men,
along the grains will fall, as the hour glass tries to keep time that will fly,
thus the irony of what was, what will be, and what I see over and again,
I wish you all the greatness, all the happiness, all the dreams beyond the sky,
such is my soul, my thoughts, and the words I speak, ink , and pen.
