Like dust

Again, like dust, I’ll rise.

Just like the moon and like the sun,

With the certainty of tides,

Just like hopes springing high,

Again, I’ll rise.

Did you want to see me broken?

Bowed head and lowered eyes?

Shoulders falling and dropping tears,

Walking with an uncertain step and scruffy air,

Crazy and lost,

Without lights in my eyes?

Weakned by my soulful cries?

Just like dust,

Again,

I’ll rise.