The picture and the poem refused to see eye to eye.

At every step of ours
A little lamp is lit
The lamps multiply
One at every trip.
A soulful journey, our goal sublime
As our path we trace
Each milestone we have to cross
Wrapped in earthly grace
Success failures, everything
All at a stride
In a mixed bag they dwell
Our unflinching guide.
The pathways are varied
Red green or blue
They converge in the end
Into a singular hue.
The cumulative effect of the lamps
An electronic shower
Behold the congregation of the souls!
A bliss of the Great Hour.
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