My mentor is not the face I see, the voice I hear or the flesh I feel.

My mentor is the spirit I sense, the idea I ken and the inspiration I receive.

For blind admiration and adoration fades. For people die and carcass decay, the reality of mortality.

Heart warming it is, that mortality is lenient on ideas. Ideas conceived, explored and shared could pass beyond the realm of a lifetime.

Sad it is, the mind that cannot dream, an idle warship indeed. For the body cannot do what the mind cannot see.

My mentor is like the mythical all-seeing eye, keen on details in execution. Exquisite is the product of this precision.

Long live the ideas of my mentor.

For blind admirations and adorations fade. For people die and bodies decay. The reality of mortality.