Craftsman

Each time when it aches,
We curse our existence,
Curse it’s giver,

Each time it hurts,
We want the suffering to end,
To attain equipoise,

Little do we understand,
That it is our great Craftsman,
Making us better,

Moulding us,
Breaking us,
To give rise to someone better,

To form,
Is to burn,
Is to die,

So reshape me,
Stretch me until I break,
Cut me to pieces,

I shall not shed a tear,
For it is you,
My Craftsman that I believe in.

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