Give no space to vain boast,
Upon attaining a higher coast...
A time failure and woes are left behind, Pleasures starting to set in.... Hedonism at the door of your heart knocking as you unwind...Sychopancy and praise-singing all at your getting..
A false picture of yourself you behold, A pathway to evil days yet foretold...
Foreign is bitter truth on the lips of those who want to see you fall, To crash and crumble is my wish for you to forestall...
That your end might be bigger than your beginning, The real you all-time revealing...
Thanks all.....