…. he felt the lady, her curly hair drenched from the light showers. Humid soft palm of her hand, contrasting against her breath. Moist with curious emotions. Was it the vapour emanating from the rigid hot asphalt, or simply mirror to delicate surfaced compassion. She has always been bold, free flowing feminity. From somewhere beyond
Tag: Abstract Literature
I would contemplate you from afar, we have been leading our own perspectives. How I yearned for you to have a glimpse of what I think. A stranger you have been, life is short to lose good fortune. Good fortune of pure feelings, how I wished it was you. My might spoke my heart, yes
“Right one” It’s no shimmering moonlight, it’s no walk down the shoreline with turquoise sea. The right one, barely defined, inclined to a heart that felt its blows. The moon fades for it to revive. As humans we fade inadvertently to fall apart. The “Right one” is it symbolical to the conjunction of the sun
Spur your routine, what had been your most cherished moment of the day? Who would you be eager to share it with? One moment, the instance. Feel the warmth. Your eyes may speak to the world, allow it communicate to you. One heart beat, its another rush. Breathe what you feel, breathe with your mind.
Before the midnight thunder resounds, I would just allow myself to flow in the stream of mixed emotions. As the winds swayed through the damp forest, I seek your scent into mesmerising me. Either as soothing as dark wood or as captive as the sea breeze from horizons. Not a pot of gold, nor a
Christmas star is symbolical to the most dazzling northern star. Standing out, leading the emotions we cherish. As I grew, my faith in Christmas meant the day of the year where new born joy and hope rekindled. To be loved, feel the wave of affection as we marched through the storm, I held you in
We feel emotions. As long as nourished it will flourish. The timeline of human emotions triggers multiple chapters. We communicate with the heart. Lifestyle changes upon the importance of priorities. Slight variations come with ripples of assumptions. The Why to the When? How it was and Now it is scars. Constant wounds unseen. Looking for
The light of the day vanishes as the dark quiet night takes over. We all live the day, schedule our own share of tasks. In the darkness of the night, I shall fall into the memories, cherished, felt and to live with. From the roses at her doorstep, to live with the wish it happened.
Tiredness soring, the weekend comes to an end. Another couple of days to make it. Normally quiet, how active to be when the weekend fed in limited energy. Her spirituality encircles her like an empty room. Dim sunlight passing through the dusty wooden walls. The basics of good old furniture with humidity paving its way.
Twitchy, the evening was all he would wish for. A day hindered by unusual circumstances and events, thoughts rushed as he made his way to the room. Moist, humid weather the cold breeze that sailed by was not enough to bring his mind to rest. Polite yet engaging through she mystery she has been. On