Each teardrop of yours

A precious bead of gold

Born of sweat and blood

And aches untold

A world held tenderly

On a blade of swaying grass...

Lament not

The moments that come

The joys undone

For time is transient

A bubble floating by

On uncharted paths

Like all that was

And all we're waiting for

What we resent, or adore

Nothing lives forever....

Like fleeting shadows on panes of glass

This too, shall inevitably pass 

© Manic Sylph 2016