Something in cutting through the lines to write freely

Something in sipping on my wine, to unwind willingly

Something in sorrows and pain, and thus in happiness and gain

It’s called life, this play of our mind, a display of courageous wild

It’s called pain, this word of ours, love

beauty, beast, family, God! It’s called the array of light

We shall go on and on, in this world of ours, till death do us apart.