No Pain, No Poetry

Life's beauty is hidden in strife, For contrast alone gives meaning to life. No darkness, no dawn, No battle, no crown. No winter, no spring, No cage, no soaring wing. No rain, no bloom, No silence, no tune. No fear, no courage, No risk, no voyage. No fire, no gold, No spirit, no soul. No doubt, no belief, No sorrow, no relief. No loss, no gain, No clouds, no rain. No longing, no art, No end, no start. No depth, no height, No struggle, no flight. No war, no warrior, No front, no rear. No life, no death, No whisper, no breath. No mud, no lotus, No roots, no focus. No pain, no poetry, No heart, no melody. Poetry isn't just about rhyme and flow, It's the rawest truth the heart can show. No pain, no poetry—not just a notion, But the soul’s deepest, truest emotion. Poetry is born from life's deepest wounds, Yet it blooms like a flower in suffering’s ruins.