Latent Pain

The promise made From soul to soul Is but a trade Of things once whole. The sojourn brings A changing spring That ever flings With what time brings. The mood seems clear Where loss of cheer Strings a new fear Where pain must steer. The flood of toil Leaves empty spoils That till the soil As harsh times foil. The touch of jest Can ease harsh fest In that lost quest As cause flunks test. The sad sad smiles Now seem to pile In sober wiles Less than worthwhile. The promise then Once made in haste Is but a when That leads to waste. Leon Enriquez 18 April 2015 Singapore