“Affliction comes to us, not to make us sad but sober;
not to make us sorry but wise.” – H. G. Wells
Eternal sadness abounds, never giving an inch against the burning sun
Tears on the edge, never cease to torment this one
Emotions raw, callouses never to form on the soul
Why?
What do I lack that fights against the shade of desperation?
Endless suffering clouds, always preempting the dawn
which rises in without concern of this one
Even a feather, lighting on my mind brings pain
Why?
This post first appeared on Opinions Of Eye – Sublime Contemplations, please read the originial post: here
