EpilogueIt's a time to grasp tomorrowAnd open your minds to forget the sorrow.All those days are doneAnd all those pains are gone,What's only left are memoriesOf the days we've had fun...Keeping the thoughts and emotions,And embracing our creationsIs the exit to the entrance we've madeAnd to the painstaking actions we've laid.Here upon we vow with great honorFor at last we have made it this far.We're not given any prerogative to do such,But see what we have made -- we reaped much.The realm of learning is immense, unending;And we've spared a moment of our livesTo know and provide solutions to what we're searching.Here we are, standing in the midst of isolation,Being a residual of the undying patience.This point will serve as an indication of our effortsThat we haven't made it without others' support.We vow, owe, and thank all!WE MADE IT!!!
Threshold to High SchoolWe sought to open a new doorAnd to enter a room void of horror.The stillness and gloom of the spaceObfuscates and clouds the pathTo which we'd be able to triumph the race.And yet we've had the courageTo struggle through, never outraged.This would be the mark of our beginningAnd perhaps not for others an ending.So many adjustments in lifeWe, individuals, have to makeA new world we ought to faceAnd make life full of grace.Fears and worries in our heartsCaused us uncertain to go on,But the encouragement from teachers and friendsMade us survive through.Now, we are already grown ups,Ready to face greater responsibilities.With passion in our hearts,We will continue our journey to... SUCCESS.
Encompassing LostThere are certain times in lifeThat we have to let go of something,Something which meant a lot to us -A part that would complete our totality.Though this taken part had been gone,The mem'ry it had left will shed forever,In our hearts, in our thoughts, and in our minds,That will forever provide happiness to what we feel...Letting go of something so valuableIs as though grasping it once again.The only thing that's hard to fightIs the loneliness that we feel due to loss.It's simply a role we have to fulfillTo ourselves, to others, and to the idea itself.We want it to be near us, hoping it would be here,But knowing that thought, well, it's deep enough to fathom.But what else can we do, it has been doneAnd wouldn't be undone again, it's all lost.But it's not yet late to start again a new one,A replica of the lost one - not better, not worse, but same.We have to, or it would be worse;We have to surrender it, or it would be dead;We don't have to conceal it, for it needs