Pass

Now comes a gale, With it rain and hail. Fail or prevail, Virtuous or derailed. All will be impaled. Those who’ve lived with thorny crowns, Will rejoice to renounce. Those with silver spoons and shining gowns, Will weep and fall down. Those with fate and lived to denounce, Will assume the golden town. While those who’ve hailed false crowns, Await the burning hounds. Though the image pass the storm, To the hearts beat forever unknown. If only the journey be known, One's image never too late to be born.