By: J. Sheeba

Tell the story,
The storms and the whirls,
Keep repeating twirls and twirls.

Along life’s rugged roads,
Tempest and thunder,
But I tread, still I wonder!

The river of trails,
For darkness gathers,
Me never hide not, neither blather.

Fear comes first
But not hope,
To quieten I rehearsed, but I cope.

From the shadow
Of my lonely way,
To jump and wishfully say.

Dread not, dread not
Be not am with you?
Thus incessantly came to view.

Be still and still not weary
Believe not those
Who say I am deary.

Courage and strength, let be prepared
No dread shall
Make the fall.

To do or not I reached the rim.
Find a way past faith,
Or make a way beyond height,

I walked the raging ocean,
But with my propulsive motion waved,
I slowly reached the saved.