Fighting from ruins

When I’m sinking in the sky of tears:
desperation clinging to my soul.
I know you’ll chip in when I’m alone,
fighting for me e’en when I’m gone.

This world has seldom blest its seeds
with such a hedge against fate;
I know not why I’m so lucky:
rising up every time they think I’m dead.

Opportunities don’t stay too long;
yet second chances keep knocking my door.
This time I knock on opportunities’ door
and watch the door unclose.

Though late, I know I’m the child of God.
O holy, grant mercy for my wrongs.
I carry heavier weights to climb the alp;
the lyre is thine, so is the song.

I won’t flinch on volunteered toil;
I won’t throw towels to gauntlets of life;
I won’t die so long as I can survive,
until my promise bears it’s young.