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Learn to Starve Yourself

Before their hands withhold the plate, Before you're taught that hunger's fate, Learn to dine on less than full, To tame the beast, to break the pull. When crumbs are kings and silence feasts, You’ll find your strength among the least. A man who’s fasted tastes the air, Yet walks with calm through lean despair. Let discipline become your bread, And self-control the path you tread. For those who feast at others' cost Will leave you starving, cold, and lost. So train your gut to not depend On every gift that others send. Choose now the hunger you embrace— Or else be emptied in disgrace. Freedom wears a lighter frame, It does not beg, it plays no game. To starve by will is not to lose— It is the fiercest strength you choose.
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Eshitemi

In the heart of a village, where whispers roam,
Lived a man named Eshitemi, wise to the bone.
With a gaze serene, and a voice so clear,
He preached of life's purpose, loud and near.

"Eshitemi," they asked, "pray, what do you mean?"
He smiled and replied, "Life's purpose is seen
In the passing of knowledge, from old to young,
A legacy of wisdom, from every tongue."

Through the cycles of seasons, he'd often say,
"We're but vessels of learning, day by day.
For what good is wisdom if kept to oneself?
It's in sharing, dear friends, that we truly delve."

With each sunrise painting the sky with gold,
Eshitemi's words, like stories untold,
Echoed in the hearts of those who would heed,
The call to pass on, to nurture the seed.

From the cradle to grave, his mantra did spread,
In the laughter of children, in the words unsaid.
For Eshitemi knew, in his humble strife,
The essence of life was in sharing life.

So let us remember, in moments grand,
That the legacy we leave, in earth and in sand,
Is not measured in riches or fame alone,
But in how we pass on what we've known.

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