Be not good at loosing hope
Everyone preaches that for our tomorrow
That is the anchor with storms to cope
That we must possess not borrow

Whom do we leave it for?
If that is the bird we have at hand?
Strife is part and parcel of our lives therefore
Like lyric is part of band

Beliefs that make normal our abnormalities
Yet inside filled with physical and mental disease
Where grows past, present and future's uncertainties
But despite all bestowing an optimism that never wants to cease

Hope is a sinew for every daily suffering
And energy's fadedness always colouring