EpilogueIt's a time to grasp tomorrow
And open your minds to forget the sorrow.
All those days are done
And all those pains are gone,
What's only left are memories
Of the days we've had fun...
Keeping the thoughts and emotions,
And embracing our creations
Is the exit to the entrance we've made
And to the painstaking actions we've laid.
Here upon we vow with great honor
For 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 lives
To 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 efforts
That 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 door
And to enter a room void of horror.
The stillness and gloom of the space
Obfuscates and clouds the path
To which we'd be able to triumph the race.
And yet we've had the courage
To struggle through, never outraged.
This would be the mark of our beginning
And perhaps not for others an ending.
So many adjustments in life
We, individuals, have to make
A new world we ought to face
And make life full of grace.
Fears and worries in our hearts
Caused us uncertain to go on,
But the encouragement from teachers and friends
Made 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 life
That 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 valuable
Is as though grasping it once again.
The only thing that's hard to fight
Is the loneliness that we feel due to loss.
It's simply a role we have to fulfill
To 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 done
And 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