incantation of the kin

poetry of him who observe,
a word to him who lost his path,
to star that guide those who deserve,
that is this what worth of aftermath.

who deem of his worthy have no place here,
for many have lost yet their hand guide nobody else lesser than mere.

these word of him who collect shell of dead and husk of man,
whom chooses to live in the dust just to comfort of the murky breeze,
him who weep for their smile and laugh,
him who weep for their cry and anger,
kin of the tears that fallen endlessly for no gain and demand,
ignorant of his backside where to many scar and bleed freeze,
he look beyond and present despite how tough,
no more fear that will sway him deter,

strive to dive the deep of abyss when he's breathless,
climbing the peak of heaven when he's wingless,
crouching and crawling throughout the wherever there may be edge of end,
seek to those who need his light rather than be brand,

these are incantation of the kin,
to creature that commit the deed and the sin,
to imagine the lost gap in every space of scene,
this is poetry him wrote in weep for his being.