Even when
You’re at your lowest and weakest–
And you’d rather close
All those open doors and windows,


It’s raining knives and vicious blows
And the only company,
You really have,
Is your own paltry shadow,


For, no one can ever make it
Sans that last, flimsy rope of hope;
Even when all the world’s oblivious
To your acheful, insistent moans,


Because tremble, grovel, and sigh;
Breathe in and breathe out;
But, always and forever,




And when you’re dismayed
By the redundant vexations
That sprout up during your days,
Find again that quiet place,
In your heart of hearts, and say,
“I’ll make it through today”.
For, nary a blustery moment
Can ever make you disregard
All that you’ve ever spent,
Just to bring you to this day–
Even those odious instances
When life callously snatches back
Every wondrous, little thing
That it granted you in the past;
Because, nothing ever lasts–res
Which utterly includes meaning
That this rancid ache, you’re feeling,
Shall also come to pass.



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listen to your heart
and heed its call.
it knows your soul,
the thoughts untold.

remember the adage
that has always surfaced:
“one is always in battle
with both self and the world.”

the key is to ascertain
what makes you sing,
what you want,
and what you need;

let your soul find
the genuine song within–
permit it to win.
you are its king.