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When laden with worries and qualms
I pray to God, my soul be calm
For life doth come with its tempest,
And toil, on us, does it beset
How few a man’s days are on earth
Yet he lives a large part in dearth;
How he hopes for the days coming,
When he shall end all his toiling.
For then his heart can be merry,
And his vision, no more blurry
Hence pray him, his heart stays at rest
When all things are not at their best
For if due to pain we lose hope,
How can we have the strength to cope?
For every day, life brings its battles
And the heart does this war rattles
But you will choose who will win it
Therefore, give yourself no limit
Win in the mind, win the heart
Let nothing make you lose your part.

(c) Chukwudi I.

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