Ah, to suffer,
is not just an invisible burden
that we drag through the streets of life.
It is the mark, the scar,
of existence that shapes us.

To suffer is the pain
that teaches us to see the world
with weary eyes,
where reality is not a straight line
but a labyrinth of thorns and hopes.

In the deep silence of the night,
where the moon whispers secrets of pain,
we find the echo of our fragility.
Each tear is a poem,
each sigh, a confession.

Our bodies, temples of suffering,
are witnesses to a drama
that needs no words
to be understood.
Suffering, this silent shadow,
draws in our souls
the outlines of a raw truth.

Ah, how heavy the path
where sorrow becomes our guide.
The human being, at its core,
is a battlefield
where hope and sadness
fight eternally.

To suffer is to live,
and to live is to suffer,
but in each faltering step
there lies the promise
of a deeper understanding,
of a greater meaning
for our troubled existence.