fathers oft claim pride of sons

before the telling day is done

less in tales of triumphant deed

more in fails that men lead

a man can't know what his son will choose

what the boy will gain or what he'll lose

the only thing a good father can see

is love for all his son might be

in shadows cast by fears untold

where darkness creeps and dreams grow cold

their resolve: the beacon bright

passage through the longest night

now my son you've grown and shown
all pride yields to humble knowing

how soaring even more than i

flying free in your own sky