When a wound wanes

You can hide your low sunken spirit

or speak not of your walloping defeat

You can laugh aloud like a racing clown

to save your esteem from falling down.

When your coveted dreams shatter

none do enable to hear the clatter;

the loner, the victim in deceitful pain

fights but sings the longing song of vain.

Hope melts like the evening sun

Life is void of every zest and fun

A word, a sign or an omen

on draining the heart of emotion,

the wound silently seethe and die

before maturing into a tear in eye.