Their candles burns bright over their heads. Sweet sound sleep long gone from their eyes. Each man embittered by his woes, their cradle so hot to lay. They struggle as in a river of high currents with loads of dissatisfaction., In wait of a certain new dawn. Atlas, With the rising Sun, Their light breaks forth, and to the stables they march.. Each man a grip of his saddle, and off they ride.. Braving their storms, Conquering mountains, hills and plains of fear avast. 🗣Ohh brave men of valor..! "They ride in a quest to search out the great treasures hidden within themselves"!!