They say one must grow and never be still,
For stillness is but a poisoning fiend
That with ease can intoxicate and kill
And leave a blank future, empty and cleaned.
They say to grow, one must look at the sky,
Towards sun, one must leave behind the ground.
Above the past, one has to soar and fly,
From earth to be free, to heavens be bound.
But they say the higher you throw a rock
The more hastily it tumbles and falls
Just as the hour hand of the same clock
Which hits the twelve, when noon or mid-night calls.
Your memory lifts me up to the highs,
Your reality drags me down with cries.
