Mere mortal, art thou not content with life?
With thy meagre years, thou seekest the heights
Where none have ventured, none prevailed.
What drives thee to risk thy own demise?
I know, for the rules have long been written:
The strong prey upon the weak,
Illness plagues the living,
And war rages beneath
While humankind still yearns for delight.
Yet I wish to peer
Through the darkness before me,
Where there remains the slightest chance—
A hope that strength might be rekindled.
Mere mortal, dost thou not comprehend?
These rules have forged thy strength,
And thus far paved thy path.
But farther on, nothing shall remain.
Will this pursuit
Burn thy spirit and crush thy soul?
For fewer and fewer will stand beside thee—
Those who build and those who lead—
Leaving only those
Who prey rather than protect.
Perhaps I was never meant to be
The one who reached the graceful sun,
For it bestows both light and longing,
Yet scorches us as we plunge in awe.
Still, I believe
A legacy remains for those who seek:
The truth that rules are made for the meek,
And hope belongs to those willing to bleed.
Mere mortal, dost thou challenge
The very order of things?
Fate demands that thou shouldst be
As written in its script—
But what role was meant for thee?
Yes—because it was not I alone
Who built these wings of mine.
They were never meant for me alone,
But for those who would witness my flight
And begin planning theirs.
Dr Vie Cheong Thong M.D. 