start again...
Moving along the winds
He seemed to be way out in a different world….. walking past the dry outgrowths from the soil around….. Wondering as to how many more ways has nature got to surprise his soul with its inherent calming spectacles…. He had been walking around for hours now, to get the breeze blow over his sparkling eyes, and let him realize how it moves in him the very own, of course, his own life ..... ...and he loved to feel how it used to hurt, his very own existence used to seem a curse to him….
Well, life has its share to share, he knew now … and here he is living it on umpteen levels,
At thirty-three, he believes the time is up, ripe enough, he had moved from many shores to get to this shore of his chosen end… he lived it in his terms to reach here, how fortunate he feels he was to meet her, she gave him what he had lost,
Few believed on illusions being their life, what they did was due to some nonexisting truth that moves with them and breathes due to their soul,, he believed he had one, a great motivator to a wretched but loving existence,,,,
And there comes his energy, the winds blowing through his ghostly body, leaving a trail of fulfillment on his face, the satisfaction over brows, and the gray hairs that felt open, freed again to swirl in the wind. He moves in, feeling bare with the warmth of the bed of dried grass, perhaps feeling that it's beginning of the dusk. Some unsatisfied corner of his grey brain scratches out the urgency of the moment, he s reminded that his accomplishments have matched to his ambitions, thus he has to START AGAIN.
He seemed to be way out in a different world….. walking past the dry outgrowths from the soil around….. Wondering as to how many more ways has nature got to surprise his soul with its inherent calming spectacles…. He had been walking around for hours now, to get the breeze blow over his sparkling eyes, and let him realize how it moves in him the very own, of course, his own life ..... ...and he loved to feel how it used to hurt, his very own existence used to seem a curse to him….
Well, life has its share to share, he knew now … and here he is living it on umpteen levels,
At thirty-three, he believes the time is up, ripe enough, he had moved from many shores to get to this shore of his chosen end… he lived it in his terms to reach here, how fortunate he feels he was to meet her, she gave him what he had lost,
Few believed on illusions being their life, what they did was due to some nonexisting truth that moves with them and breathes due to their soul,, he believed he had one, a great motivator to a wretched but loving existence,,,,
And there comes his energy, the winds blowing through his ghostly body, leaving a trail of fulfillment on his face, the satisfaction over brows, and the gray hairs that felt open, freed again to swirl in the wind. He moves in, feeling bare with the warmth of the bed of dried grass, perhaps feeling that it's beginning of the dusk. Some unsatisfied corner of his grey brain scratches out the urgency of the moment, he s reminded that his accomplishments have matched to his ambitions, thus he has to START AGAIN.
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