Obstacle Course Poem by Bernard F. Asuncion

M-ist, fog, and haze
A-re nowhere in sight;
R-ise of the morning sun
I-s setting things aright.
C-oal clouds twelfth February
A-re all becoming white;
R-ed beacon sweet Sunday is truly burning bright.

D-awn has just come out,
A-fter the lonely twilight;
N-ew day denies the dark,
T-rying to break with all its might.
I-n the world of survival, you must win over the foe's force;
C-liffs and tires are conquered in your obstacle course.