When the path seem black and lengthy, And every stride seems so wrong.
Lift your head; you are not finished yet, you may run though the race is difficult.
The storm may yell; the night could endure, Still, night has to become day.
Every fall you take, every scar, every pain, Do evidence you are strong enough once more?
The mountain waits; the dream calls still, You are meant to rise above the falls. So start on that path and be honest with yourself
The planet is waiting only for you.
Shalom
Still Me 
