DIDACTIC: "THE WOODEN BRIDGE" BY ANCESTHOR

The journey across the wooden bridge 

And the bang commenced the race 

With joy written on them who have earlier picked the pace 

Some would fake it but opposite is what is written on their face 

The journey across the wooden bridge 

With everything we race levels on four 

Even though a mystery unto us is what we're racing for

The moment we savour and would probably ask for more 

Enjoyed the moment as following the guide on tour

The journey across the wooden bridge

Picked some things along the way

From branches of trees which arraigned the way

Seeds and fruits, barks and leaves; Think it, you say!

The journey across the wooden bridge

Sacks got fillings, on the rope we leaning, levels rose to two 

Got acquainted with the wind, surviving on picks and samples 

Stacked on two, limpid, and explored what we can do

The journey across the wooden bridge

Energetic, we switched from crawling, walking, running to jumping jacks 

Like some kid in a bouncing castle in a park 

Consciously and unwary of what awaits at the end of the track

The journey across the wooden bridge

Nailed on tracks were numbers & colours of wood, in different hue; shade and light 

And at track, on a wood was heard a creak, on it? Three six five 

Words were weaker, ignored as wisdoms says "let the sleeping dog lie"

In the journey across the wooden bridge

And before us at a track is an obese

Whose two feets speaks two things; you defy or you obey 

And surviving the dilleverse, chose to obey

In the journey across the wooden bridge

Patience's hourglass is running out 

Journey's race/time is running out 

And then, next choice is bailing out, but how?

In the journey across the wooden bridge

With fury, we chase a journeyer past us

But un-fortunately, an oldie caused a sharp pause 

And seethe assuaged in a snap toss

In the journey across the wooden bridge

The forest disappear and suddenly weather land

And back in thought, wished it could be Netherland

No choice, as the power to wield is in the welder's hand

ANCESTHOR

(A TICKING BOMB)

The poet personae addresses life as being on a wooden bridge. This is definitely drawn from the inevitable experiences of periodic adjustments that being alive requires. The speaker also includes some features of greatness, like: cooperation, misfortunes, energy, mystery of focus, so and so.