There is beauty in suffering I am told,
The blossom without a thorn is a false rose.
Tears shed for us were not requited for a life that was resurrected. Desolation is the way to high art and awe is its reward. The wound that will not heal longs for wholeness and is nobly born.
Tell me about beauty and pain answers in the voice of rapture and passion. It is well that we are built to endure or how else to know your perfection.