
In the midst of odds.
In the midst of odds,
where nothing stir your world,
you expect a word,
but all you see is sword.
You ask do anyone care,
cos you see no one so dear,
your pains seems so rare,
little happiness you can not dare,
while in your misery you perish,
their wealth they lavish,
blame them not for your anguish,
cos your pains to them is stylish,
all things fall apart,
and obscurity tred your path,
where you find no cart,
to drive you from this world apart,
Rejoice for a small still voice,
come with a hope not an ounce,
listen to hear it's not a noise,
cause sometimes it comes but once.
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