IMMORTALS Great men never die but sleep, For sleep is just a rest from labour. But even in sleep, their deeds journey on, Gracing lives with interminable joy... These men, to them, graves remain powerless, For they're the sempervirent sky - Hovering above the esoteric earth. They're the loamy soil - where plants find comforts. Yes, they're the salt of the world! These men, they're the builders of Rome; The architects of Eiffel Tower; The painter of Mona Lisa - whose esoteric beauty
speaks a million words. They're the springs - quenching all thirst. They're mentors of the new age. Yes, there are men and there are men; For some live to die While others die to live. These women, you can't find them in tombs For the gluttonous graves just can't have it
all! Selah Awake from your slumber O my spirit! Renew my strength that I may find joy in my toils. Let me grow beyond the graves. That someday, in a distant time, When sleep finally embrace me, that I shall sleep to rise again.