Sound you can hear faces you can see
But inaudible are they like the words that you read
Books galore but not a drop of wisdom
Heaven is open but not a touch was given.
To drink and not be filled is to commit a murder
For what stop rage is not actions but comfort from anger
A sparrow flies, constantly he does
Not when he hates home, but whenever he must.
A test, a challenge, a match from afar
Sent on one purpose is the invitation
Not for doubt, neither for shame
But till i am triumphant the teacher is silent.