The Joy Of Sorrow

A Canorous Quintet

A bitter tear smashes the surface. 
Happiness spreads it's wings, never to return. 
Blackness now the state of mind, an endless age of suffering. 
A statue it speaks words never to be spoken. 
Forced entries opens up the soul like never healing wounds. 
Will it ever disappear? 

It's beautiful like moonligt touching water. 
It's painful, a being torn to shreds. 
It's magnificent like perfection itself. 
It's awful, a being fading on the shelf. 

Endless cries above and below. 
Prayers they stay unheard like the silence of a world, fading into nothingness. 
Time has left us in the cold, still the fires are burning. 
While everything is getting old, except the sorrow in the snow.
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