What is life without pain?
Whatever it is, is in vain.
What is pain to do in life?
If not help us rise above strife.

Why our soul do we bare?
Why is a moment of happiness rare?
Why in eternal delirium we exist?
If not to find destination past the mist.

And we still praise our life
and seek a petaled handle to a knife.
And we still go on to breath and breath
For we hope for heaven and soul to meet.