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How impressive are those under the sun.
The growing minds that see me as a great one.
I may never see myself in the light of their souls,
but forever I will hold their image of me.
Can I, a desolate and young sun be as they describe.
Can I, a God of cowardice be the teacher they look to.
Am I capable of such a thing,
I am he Who aims too low when shooting for the stars.
I am he, the semi-positive semi-achiever.
What a blessing my reality has been.
How impressive are those under the sun.
The younger Suns who see me as great.
I may never see myself in their eternal rays,
but forever I will know they exist,
and forever I will reach out to the heavens so as to overstand their meaning.
What a blessing this has been.
For I am seen as great.
I am seen as strong.
I am seen as wise,
yet I am he who picks at the swine of the soul.
I am he who oppresses himself.
The young sun who seeks not to shine.
How beautiful are these younger souls.
For they look at the old man that I am,
and they see a youthful prince in his prime.
