There are 2 kinds of pain.
The first is the meagre feeling of being hurt.
The second is sacred.
It kills you with perfect articulation.
It decimates all of your foundations.
It makes the air stand still
and ***** white noise into the room.
It provides contrast
to the fruits of isolation.
It is the mistress of evolution.
It is symbiosis for conquerors,
for on the other side of that kind of pain
are all things worth dying for.
It’s the strength of survivors;
The breath of the resurrected

If you have yet to be killed.
If you are stagnant in your ambitions.
If you don’t even know, what you don’t know,
You are yet to fight your finest hour