Be still. Hold on. It will come to pass. You will emerge triumphantly.
I feel so weary, And sleepy as a log, But I should go on And keep on writing. Whatever arises, However I feel, Whenever I can’t, Wherever I am in my journey; Somehow, I could think of something; Maybe along the way, Or just at the sidelines. I am not sure how, Yet I should hearten myself. Unceasingly, as the rain; And fervently, as my love for you. Who else will do this for me? So earnestly as I can, Who else will buck me up? As fiery as I am now. What do you say? Yes, it’s only you, my plain old soul.