I will lift my eyes to the hills and where help will come,
With nobility sweeping away human misery to the dear end;
Like the sheen drops of torrential rain embracing a thirsty rose
And buds withering blossoming revealing beauty unrivaled.
Labour the very word enslaving our our span sapping
All the juices daring to flow till slacken like a gnarled shrub.
Responsibility taken,a daunting task unrelenting
Till old age settles unharnessing a lion to dumb and numb.
A scorching blaze windy,a hammer and a chisel then a chair;
Energetic arms battering a crumbling plastered wall.
Toil mighty grows weary the muscles then we refreshed chasing hunger.
Braving a day with duty emboldens my heart with elation,
Long ceased at glory days now stagnation facades my span.
