From the in depths traced down to a throne of aspiration.
A creation dragged up only by .
Like the blue moon, meant to be celebrated.

You're brought to surface by series of confrontation.
When used well you'd get a crown of good reputation.
But not all want to struggle so they call you a nerd.

They think they are greater, that's a fool's conception.
They hate stress yet deals with classification.
Cause they believe the wigs have brain better than the pens.

Oh you citadel of inspiration,
through the minds of those who work rather than grieve in lamentation.
Never failed to reward the deserved.