He lights a candle, for no light at all.
He climbs a million times, to remain alongside all.
He is never at rest, never is working say all.
He is weary ‘n’ exhausted, always standing tall.
He is no human, say so the worldly savages.
They do not repent, for they are fools to be.
I know him best, a soul contradictory to sages.
Loved for what he is, and he is me.