Behind that quick half smile
Hidden are things very fragile
We greatly fear their loss
And never bet them at toss

We try to guard the short lived
And name them when gone,”the beloved”
The fragility within, is shattered one day
Halting all that is joyous and gay.

Deep down, to ourselves, we tell
That this storm would soon quell
That the life within would rise again
And dance with us in the sun and rain.

The storm finally passes
Leaving in its wake a deadly calm
Some tend to reason the fate
Some tend to curse and some start believing.

Soon, the joy eclipses the sadness
The melancholies are forgotten and buried
With what is left joyously we move on
Very rarely reminiscing the things that are gone

We enjoy this ephemeral joy
Bathe in the triumph and glory
But deep down, another storm, we fear
And brood the loss of the dear.