The Soul Seekers Sorrow
The life of man the soul seeker tendsFor what purpose we dare not prepend
Undbound and uncertain by lifes demands
Ever sinking slowly into sorrows quik sands
Pain then becomes our friend
He helps, so it seems, when we have no other
He tends to us as if to a lover
In secret though he bides his time
For sorrow is His mistress and she is less than kind
She leads pain to invade our mind
But pain is not just
For he purposefully and hapily brings sorrows lust
This cycle will forever repeat
Until we win the fight or die and admit defeat
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