If clouds were always silvery white,
and sorrow were pretend
If every pursuit aligned with what was planned
If struggle were mere fiction, or simply undefined
How would we not also leave true happiness behind?
If everything were beautiful,
then what would beauty be?
Would we know that we were blind if we could never see?
The perfect dusk will wait for you until you've closed your eyes
But if each new day is empty, then what good is paradise?
Please suggest a new title if you think of a better one!