The Dove that dove into the bushes.

Driving is a risky risk
Like life is a tricky race
Maps don’t show us the right path
Still, they would offer guidance.
Lines are the most difficult
To read and understand once
There’s no end to justify.

There are paved routes with old locks
Only those with keys can work.
Fresh starts are never fresh moves
No hero dies without scratch
There are books with thorn pages
The risk is left to those who
can walk through fire and not burn.

Few chose themselves from the called
Many would fall before they rise;
Set fire to the rain and stars
Many would fall before the rise;
Miss their steps and miss figures
To those who wouldn’t even try,
Behold the world; a beauty.

Victor Oyedele