It is difficult to understand my reasoning
For life has shown nothing towards me but hate
Or at least disdain at the best of times

But i love It so
As the teenager loves the  idol she will never have

i love life though it deals me death continuously
i hold onto it which a strength
That weakens the soul temporarily

- my life it is my lover -

And you ask why i owe it my passion
When i live pain?
Why Look around you -touch your surroundings and think
That - one day you will not touch
But then , What is a tree but a tree?

For me death is death
i see no other realm except this

And so i adore my suffering as it is life
You could say i find suffering a pleasure
i do not know if you would be wrong

Or if you would be right
have others opinions not always overshadowed our own?
So please tell me if i am that frightening person
Who writes of the beauty in pain.