Sweat run down upon my efforts,
Like a dew it is clinging upon my body.
It's odour engulfing me, drowning me when every ounce of passion bursts,
I am tired, fatigue which I wore, I embody.
Sink in it- I am- it is tracing down my every path of consciousness.
In it I am drenched,
An urge to be better,
It's every bitter taste, I have quenched,
The temptation to give up must be fetter.
It's the beauty of beholding that every seed have been swoed,
Let it cleansed the failure... perhaps - dust of past,
Let pain be felt, don't shackle it, let it remain roared,
Upon the bough of fatigue sprout an ecstasy don't let it avast.
Like a dew it is clinging upon my body.
It's odour engulfing me, drowning me when every ounce of passion bursts,
I am tired, fatigue which I wore, I embody.
Sink in it- I am- it is tracing down my every path of consciousness.
In it I am drenched,
An urge to be better,
It's every bitter taste, I have quenched,
The temptation to give up must be fetter.
It's the beauty of beholding that every seed have been swoed,
Let it cleansed the failure... perhaps - dust of past,
Let pain be felt, don't shackle it, let it remain roared,
Upon the bough of fatigue sprout an ecstasy don't let it avast.
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