From darkness is born the miraculous light.
To have seen fear,
Is to have seen the scarred face of courage,
To have known failure,
Is to have known the exalted taste of victory,
To have felt hurt,
Is to have felt the pin-pricks of love,
For, today’s sinner is the saint of tomorrow,
Merely a ruse to hide the exquisite inside.
Believe it or not,
The wicked are closer to finding God,
Their flaws like flowers,
Waiting to blossom when the season is right,
Just as the clouds of despair rain hard,
Only to fade into the rainbow of hope.