Pain is a stain
It is that ache that has no gain
It reminds you of the strain
It is a drought without rain
Your peace of mind it thus drain
Hardly keeping you sane
Yet pain is a train, it keeps on its track.
It distracts and itches like a cheap crack
It attracts misery, your senses under constant attack
Leap free and flee.
Live without the weights around your neck.
Live free, do not wreck.
Pain is mourning
Mourn but here is a warning
Even when nothing seems to be working
Even at the darkest of night
There will be a morning!
There will be a light
A morning with glittering rays of sunshine
With blessings divine
Forget the pain,
Let the memories of loved ones remain
Remember the laughter
But remember what comes after,
Pain is a train, do not keep to its tracks
Bail, never act so frail and in gale
Let HIS words be your solence;
Let the word prevail
Pain is like a drug from quad of quacks
Makes you sick
Transforms your courage to a dysfunctional prick
It is that ache, that wrinkles your heart in grief.
It’s a thief
It steals your security; feeds you with hopelessness.
Help less, makes you feel the helplessness
Pain is a stain, wash it off.
It chains you with tact.
Break free and stay intact.
Pain is a drought without rain
It starves you of joyous lane
It starves you of grain
Keeps you empty and vain
It keeps your pocket overturned and on drain
Sorrow and anger plays you like a toy
It makes you fall under its cheap ploy
It’s chains you to its strain
Your heart it stuffs with regret
It threatens your accomplishments and makes you sweat
Your better days it makes you forget
Break free and stay free.
Pain comes at different guises
Happiness it despises
Wages war like Hussein
Seizes your gain
It exploits like the boss,
Nails you to your own cross
Wipes away your gloss
It drowns you in the pool of your loss
Gives you flashes of a bleak tomorrow
Makes you borrow and sorrow
Reminds you of your failure
Lures you to the dusty floors
And takes you from the back,raw
Leaves you sour and sore
Your defeat it explores and whores
Break free and make a stand.
Pain is that sickle that harvests weeds
It sows no better seed
It hardly breeds but bleed
Scattered on the field, dubious with mislead
It kill your dreams with thorns to never secede
Indeed, pain is a stampede
Remind yourself you are God’s miracle
Turn your obstacle to a spectacle
Be His oracle.