Existance is only in what is not,
For there is no cold unless against the hot
And forgetting other things there is no me,
And without dischord there is no harmony.

You weep of pain, is that all you can be?
There is no truth except what you can't see.
In your tears of suffering and cries of glee
Will you always fail to know reality?

Less for the enlightenment you sought,
All you looked at was what is and missed what's not.
While you weep of joy's own absence, in your strife,
I will smile; only no joy is joy in life.