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Atlas

Prevail against your grieving pain,
For I need you here—I must confess.
Stout hearts endure the battle plain.

Compassion reaching to unchain
Those trapped when you yourself distress.
Prevail against your grieving pain.

Your intellect lies not in vain
By grandly leading to success.
Stout hearts endure the battle plain.

Vivaciousness need not be restrained.
Your personality, don’t repress.
Prevail against your grieving pain.

Your beauty ruling in domain
Inside and out, don’t second-guess.
Stout hearts endure the battle plain.

Yet still, my friend, you feel disdain:
Your melancholy gives me stress.
Prevail against your grieving pain.
Stout hearts endure the battle plain.



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