When the times are tough,and way seem rough.Your states are gone,and your stores are blown.
When the wind sweeps away your guard,and your are put on the stand.When you got to guard your hopes,with no shields and nothing in hand.
Then my friend, for not your own quest of greatness,of all the torment and its final sweetness.
You topples thousands times before your ever learnt to walk,Your tongue slipped hundred times in pursuit of the first talk.
The pain that mind registers, it is only a routine affair.It is the upbringing of life,and it is very fair.
When the wind sweeps away your guard,and your are put on the stand.When you got to guard your hopes,with no shields and nothing in hand.
Then my friend, for not your own quest of greatness,of all the torment and its final sweetness.
You topples thousands times before your ever learnt to walk,Your tongue slipped hundred times in pursuit of the first talk.
The pain that mind registers, it is only a routine affair.It is the upbringing of life,and it is very fair.
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