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By: shadowlight

Page 1, A push in THE direction

To where will you turn

Round robin, round robin

Is it the mother that delegates so?

That a blow left then he shall know

Are you not as such a leaf?

Or does mother not wish it so

That if she decides it east

Then that surely we may go

Is it not her force a guide?

As some may sought it as a push

A shove beyond allowed

But yet I guess it is in the eye

In the time when we could fly

Through space and time just as you

Did we not give to what mother wished?

A brisk here to smoothen the blow

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