Before Honor

A crown of gold, a lofty seat,

A name revered, a triumph sweet.

These are the prizes, sought and won,

Beneath the blazing, midday sun.

But shadows creep, where laurels gleam,

And depths of soul, a hidden stream.

For honor's path, a winding way,

Begins in humbleness, they say.

Not arrogance, nor boastful pride,

But gentle heart, where grace resides.

In quiet strength, a spirit grows,

That bears the weight of life's great woes. 

So let us bow, before we rise,

And seek the wisdom of the wise.

For in humility's fertile land,

True honor's seeds are wisely planned.