Take sorrow’s hand

If you are calling sorrow a cleansing agent
I just might agree
Look how beautiful and empty our lives can be
Sorrow is birthed because of joy, joy because of sorrow
To glory in suffering is quite blissful
To muster joy out of sorrow is pretty easy
The formula is staying alive
Staying archived in a memory
Bitter or sweet, tweaked or pure
Cure the heat you memorised and bore
Sorrow washes away stocked up pain
and grief and silence. Teaches you new ones
Or new joy. Washes you clean.
It must burn, and break and almost destroy
The sweet aftertaste is felt only after gruesome chewing.

LARDO