Holding Your Hand; Holding Sand

Holding your hand is like holding sand,
it loses a little with the passage of time.
If one day I release,
for sure the precious comes to an end.

Running! Hunting! Pursuing! Crying!

The efforts of retrieving are just in vain.
Making amends has no meaning,
nor regreting it will reduce the pain.

The only course of not losing,
is holding it with full strength.
Not even during the hard time,
nor when I'm exhausted.

Holding it; feeling it.

Even if there would be less or not much left;
it remains,

as long as I hold it tight.