This is so unruffled now;
A variable string of loosing and finding;
Some undying and some to be momentary;
Originally was glum and gloomy;
At times ecstasy and delightful;
The cause is so irrational; it just is the myth
or a moment
of affairs.
It’s fruitless to ponder;
But fate is tough and so am I, now;
It brings an unwavering bliss in being even;
An elation that’s a convention today;
Loosing and finding is a piece of existence;
That’s in pink of appreciation;
Till it doesn’t again tremble…