When has one lost what once was true,
One will know the way to lose,
In which all odds that one assumes,
Imply the one odd within you,
Within one shot there’s no more chance,
Although one shot can take all ten,
If chiseled right it takes the pin,
The mind should set to lose nor win,
The time is set for reigns to fall,
Phithets will soar and shoot to mark,
All though omega shot it hard,
A mega shot target was scored,
The moral for this stanza is,
If you haste slow with controlled swing,
The more likely you pack a sting,
Regret the one who’s rushing in….
