Ode to Physical Pain

Oh, constant, unending Pain, my surest, truest friend.
Agony, blessed Agony, your ever-present ache identifies
unyielding vitality. That sharply labored breath is
respiration (fully) experienced. Those overwhelming
burdens grant me immune to senseless distraction,
grounding me in the present. Oh, merciless teacher.
Spread your harshest wounds across the soil of my
figure. Find root in my skin and nerves and veins. Killing
fields to blanket and smother withering pleasure that
waxes and wanes. Thine are the lidless eyes of night that
stare upon my tears. Thine is the thickness of the dark
that presses in my anguish. Rejoice in the miseries of life
unkind. Here, and only here, are the senses stretched
and contracted, hone them to their prime strength, to
primal vigor. Seek comfort in endurance. Be consumed by
struggle. Lasting wisdom only exists in the abandoned
fields, in the dusty swamp, on the burnt out plains, on the
desolate hillside.