nor a grand scar tissue over old wounds,
Strength will not populate the empty in you
like angry waves in the holes of a cliff.
Stop growing and start building
the kingdom you would have call you king,
Its arches will need hard stonemasons,
its wine will drink decades to flavour,
Or do you hope to steal castles from dreams?
Trust to stumble onto the lucky mistakes?
Gamble your name to the winds
and success will taste foreign,
failure all too comfortable,
Stop growing and start building.
Image Source: The Astronomer by Johannes Vermeer
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