They say that struggles have to be intense for prosperity to follow

That precursors of touching bliss are never shallow

They say that nights have to be terrifyingly dark, for the morning to be bright 

That adversities are to be won with strength and might


How then can we make our sorrow look more intense?

Our griefs aren’t that visible, they don’t look so dense

How much should we aptly break, to wake up strong?

Should we have made the settled feuds last even long?


Smiles that hide complaints and prolonged silences pacify denials that accrue

Endless desires of touching distant joys beckon us too

The autumn doesn’t end…How can spring follow when it isn’t even winter? 

How do we validate our agony? How much more do we sear?


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