The pains,
With no gains,
The shocks,
With someone to mock,
The strifes,
For the peace of lives,
The wounds
Not in mounds,
The cries,
Of the many lies,
The regrets,
That became a threat,
The call,
Of the one in all,
Living in depression,
Yet in succession,
For there is a deity,
That’s always a security,
In all sorrows,
That come on the morrows,
Such is the secret,
Of the luckiest!
