​In This Hustle

From dawn to dusk, survival is key

Early rising to late resting, toiling becomes a curse

Even birds rose early to toil,  nev’r late to rest

Of what is this to-and-fro a beatitude?

Man toils, his Appetite’s never saturated

Worn out like an aged skin,

Burn out like an old woman’s hairs

Such and such are the outlook of a toiling soul

Wearied in spirit, broken down in mind

His eyes sunken, his cheek bones prominent

Toiling is never a beatitude but a curse

Prosperity is by grace – God gives wealth

In this hustle, sacrifice not health for wealth

As I look up from the hill of hustle

Whence shall my help comes from?

In this hustle, I leave all to God to toil no more!

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