|Photo Courtesy: 1stdibs.com|
I hold the key to the city;
It’s golden, it’s glossy and it blings.
I stand between two valleys,
Shouting above the roar of the winds.
I survey all the varieties
Of blessings that accompany the lessons.
Then the city called to me
Because I hold its key.
Here I stand before its gates of gold
Savoring the wind thro the keyhole,
I can’t shake the feeling it’s destiny.
This calling’s bringing out the best of me.
And somehow that is the key,
My entrance into the city,
It’s the prize for staying true to the game;
It is all that I strive to be, made plain.
This city of mine;
The city of lights,
Is mark of the prize—
The perfection of the I.