I saw battle-corpses, myriads of them,And the white skeletons of young men-I saw them;I saw the debris and debris of all the dead soldiers of the war;But I saw they were not as was thought;They themselves were fully at rest-they suffer'd not;The living remain'd and suffer'd-the mother suffer'd,And the wife and the child, and the musing comrade suffer'd,And the armies that remain'd suffer'd.
At some point, we have each said through our tears, "I'm suffering for a love that's not worth it."¯ We suffer because we feel we are giving more than we receive. We suffer because our love is going unrecognized. We suffer because we are unable to impose our own rules. But ultimately there is no good reason for our suffering, for in every love lies the seed of our growth.
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