Exhale

The tides are dark driven, The waves are not fair, Like black mamba on defensive position, Life could strike. Your hope could be an earthen vessel, Your problems.. Thor's hammer, Your life's wire could be a flat tyre, And your troubles a nailed track. Calm down.. Breathe.. EXHALE.. This is not the end. When you become a laughing stock, Only good enough to laugh at, Your name bringing witty whispers, And spark gossips. When your joy is just a tear drop, And your sorrows a thirsty dried dessert, Your bliss is a snack, And your worries a lion's lack. Calm down, Breathe, EXHALE. This is not the end. The destination is a million mile, And you seem to be on snail speed, One day you will look at the destination, And be grateful for the journey. So calm down, Breathe, EXHALE.. This is not the end.