Sizeable length of life,
Rife with strife,
For fleeing from fate,
While innate gift lay in wait.

Wasting in the lavatory,
Waiting for him to wake up,
Waiting for him to take up
The lance of orlay

And fight without flay,
The battle of life.
Sharp like knife,
The vision is clear on slate.

But what would world state?
He crouch and stay,
What would they say?
He cring like a blay.

Then befell a sudden purgatory,
I will start all over,
For mittel will I be known world over,
Better late than never, he mooted.