It’s true my days are dreary nights
And the ways are full of thorns,
I have to go through silent fights
In each silvery morn.
I have to deal unnoticed tears
And sheer hatred and taunts,
And weird feelings of baffling Sphere
Don’t go the way I want.
And vague mirages of eerie past
Like wraiths so foul and vile,
Ruin my flowers with grimy dusts,
And haunt my pleasant whiles.
But still amidst this savage game,
Though high my burning pain;
This life shall never lose its flame,
And nay, it shan’t complain.
For hurdles dwell in every sight,
O nothing is eternal fine,
And thousands even are spending nights
With aches sharper than mine.
And what’s the use of weeping
When the sun has set in west?
While squillion stars are waiting
To brighten again the breast?
So, though this life is fleeting
And yesterday was gray,
Here’s my heart still beating,
There’s nothing I can’t today!