The architect, the sculptor,
And everything in between,
Mozerak was the key that unlocked everyone's inner peace.
A child with a passion, a kid with a dream,
They were always the one to see sense within these.
There was a heart,
And a sense of truth.
That in an ever-changing world, we could still live on as one.
In the blistering heat, and when the days grew cold,
Mozerak knew just what the people would say.
The others around them would heed their words,
Gathered in circles, just to hear them speak.
Many believed that they were sent from above.
Just a touch of their hand felt like heaven on earth.
But they always insisted they were like you or I.
A human being, here on this earth.
With a heart,
And the words of truth.
That every being here on earth, could believe in what they see.
Diminutive in stature, but a giant of any hall.
A solider of wisdom and the owner of a loving soul.
The child with a passion, the kid that had a dream,
Mozerak was the soul that believed in who they'd really be.
The ruler of freedom, within any form of flock,
They were the one that steered us all from pain.
They had a heart,
And a sense of truth,
That there is right and there is wrong,
And we know that we may choose.
There is a soul,
That speaks the words of truth,
That the world on which we stand, will never slow us down.
Those words, I remember, still carried in the wind,
'Mozerak, we love you!'.