Once a while when not rolls the stone,
Grows from the land a fresh and tender hope,
The skies still thunder in Oympus'wrath,
Bathing the sky hitting the cloudy shards.
Yet in the obsolete contrasts set in the eye,
He rolls the stone by and by.
Every now, it falls to dust
Growing agony and the chains set to rust
Yet he rolls the stone to the steep sky
Waiting for a rock to hold his flight.
And yet his pain lost to ennui
He let off the stone of Zeus.
Fallen but in veiw of faith
He stood again to work anew.
Stopped not till the end of stars
One day he'll stop his embark
That one day when the Moon will be glad
To silver his peace to the man of rock...
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