BACK FROM A STRAY

At last, the travelers are back
All covered in debt.
We were on a journey,
A journey into the nooks and crannies
Tracing the shadows
Of earthly mirage and pleasures.

Now we come back home,
But It's but too late
For our shells are no more.
So we seek refuge like aliens.
Our seeming own now repels us
Like the ocean currents onto trash,

We have come back home:
Trying to do the possible impossibilities;
Forcing the horses to drink
From the sea of our sin;
Pleading with the snails to stick to trees in autumn
All being but vanity, impossibilities;
A ticket to calamity!

To those left undone, take note,
For we have seen something.
Now the voices of men
Who dared not cross our parts
I hear from within saying:
"Where were you when men were men?''
.
.
THERE IS NO SHORTCUT TO GREATNESS.