India, March 18 -- Upon a quiet path I walked alone, Where gentle wind and sunlight softly shown. When from the grass, a serpent swift did glide, And sank its fangs before I stepped aside. I could have chased it, questioned why it came, And hurled at it my fury and my blame. But reason spoke, a voice both calm and sure: "Prevention still is better than a cure." Why waste my breath on answers wrapped in lies, While poison rises and the daylight dies? I held my wound and tended it with care- To act with sense was wiser than despair. For many wear a mask, both smooth and sweet, Yet hide deceit, beneath their polished speech. Smiles may be soft, but danger often hides, In double faces, cloaked in charming tides. So mark this truth, and keep it ever near, Kill the harm before it roots in fear. And know fully well- when faced with pain or guile, Fangs maybe sharp.... but sharper is your style....