At night after a deep sleep,
I dreamt of the lost sheep,
Stabbed with an arrow so deep,
bleeding uncontrollably in a trap,
Without a saviour to make it stop,
Then I saw a fortune of wealth,
Glowing out of the bleeding wrath,
With a Leatherman cloth,
With written words embracing Lilith,
To Hail the light for supper growth,
Indeed I had no choice to overcome,
the blame challenge to over consume,
Especially to poverty curse programme,
Again to customize my life purpose,
From achieving the treasure of Fame,
Now,
I was into the books of the sacred,
Making appoints with the mastered,
In the secret temple of the invisible,
Making changes in building castles.