In the crucible of sorrow, our spirits are forged,
Each tear a drop of molten gold, shaping our form.
Through the shadows and the storms, we emerge,
Reborn in the fires of our inner storm.

Pain, a relentless teacher, whispers in our ears,
Lessons of resilience, patience, and grace.
It carves deep lines of wisdom through our fears,
Etching strength in the most tender place.

Growth, the silent partner of our strife,
Blooms in the cracks of our shattered heart.
It takes root in the dark corners of our life,
And from the ruins, new beginnings start.

So let us embrace the aching of our soul,
For in its depths, true beauty lies.
With every scar, we become more whole,
In pain and growth, our spirit flies.