His physique is battered by work
His mind is considering tasks
His coronary heart is crushed by circumstances
Hey, raise your head
You’re the storm that awaits the horizon, you’re the lightning that thunders within the universe, be the wind that blows away struggling, you aren’t simply hope, you’re the reply to your mom’s prayer that scratches the sky uninterested in being paid wages
Go house and luxuriate in a smile, life is actual, demise is definite, however work is a should, even when the outcomes usually are not taken with you to demise

