Training

The training must go on,

One difficult situation after the other,

From each heaven is a hell born,

All this on earth, makes me shudder.

The joy is in a string of special moments,

Sorrow, an unending maze,

Just when life seems to have low rents,

Starts the sub prime crisis phase.

The eyes go so moist most of the time,

Trickling tears on the cheeks quick,

Receiving punishment for a noble crime,

Haven Happiness shatters brick by brick.

And then some time passes by,

For us to only see the dawn,
The distant rays, a relieved sigh,

Finding a teary-eyed overwhelming morn.

Thinking of what happened and why,

Suddenly not wanting to lose the moment,
Forgetting the sorrow, looking at the sky,
Orange-red fruit for bearing the training torment.