Your arms ache, your feet ache
The pain’s height moves up
Your back no more holds you up.
You stop and stare up
In supplication, the moon is in the sky up
Child of fate, mercy befriends door.
Hold on hold on
You captain of your soul
Loose not your soul.
When thorns become your mattress
And sand become sole of your shoes
That is when your angel would smile!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such great advice - hold on, don't ever let go. Thank you for nice comment.