Not Far and Not Close
In all facets, its scent blows like the man's coil,
Stop, you are weak!
Now these words make you freak.
From afar, more you walk, here you dwell.
Ravenous? Then swallow grumble and toil.
Top; above your imagination, so many are sick,
Despite this, beginning starts; end to seek?
None to lie, the sores as well.
This panting seems a marathon, what an adventure!
Imagine finishing it not knowing,
The cargoes still goes, none will venture,
Just a slopy, seems a hill unmoving,
To heads, all have gleefully mature,
Many are disparities that left filling.
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