many days have come,
and many days will pass.
in this life, i see the pain
reflected again and again;
existing day after day.
never in this life will
i fully understand, that my pain
causes others to live...
doth the wind blow?
hark, i listen;
it is as gentle
as the treacherous sea,
reminding me of my pain.
maithar, why does the wind blow
as harsh as the sea`s rolls?
it is the will of the maker, child;
death without it is worse...
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