A heart is a delicate jewel that needs to be treasured with passion for it to have warm survival. Well, in my story I failed to be a giant guardian to it. A day became old, maturing along with time. One had had it all and all was in one. But all was now a rotten knot of a long and lost rope along with the crawling twilight.

In my dreams I chase the whirling wind and the pace drowns my conscience. I cannot shoot my head off to put on the edge. It’s not my choice to make, I cannot blame nature’s wrath for it relinquishes its pleasure somehow. I’m not sure, don’t get me wrong. Maybe it’s not a dream, maybe it is but I cannot tell even though I’m still asleep. I’m not being dramatic am I? If time tortures my horns, let my sight be my light. Even though I’m living within thorn leaves of a fallen tree, survival lies upon my rest. These strings tied on my heart shall cover my bitterness. My pains are better off felt, yes that’s it, in such time I shall count my breath.

Dreams at their sight have gone, birds up so high tweeting and dogs barking, that’s when I woke up, dressed like an innocent child who doesn’t even know how to say “hi”. A cup of tea brings me to my senses and a little prayer brings hope unto me. I sit on the couch, thinking of nothing but the state of my heart. I stand still, breathing like a man with no conscious.

She made her choice, to leave me, so she can live another life which does not include me. I lived with her happily, kissed her passionately. I loved her fairly and treated her like the queen. She was with all I had. She wanted more than I could afford, that’s why I had to let her go. My feelings stroke iron core of a love-sink in vain. Modesty was a thing of the past as I remained the last man to have ever been loved.

I do not say I loved her to the fullest. I loved the ground under her feet and the air over her head and everything she touched and every word she said. I loved her voluptuous body, actions and the award winning smile that used to brighten up my day. I loved her unconditionally.

She had beauty charms on every part of her body. Curves, adorning her thighs and her hips loose, melting a man’s eyes.

Another world shall be at its creation and I will still be facing time of depression. The art of true love is drawn within me. It’s a sorrowful sight not all can accept it or bare it. My heart is being tossed with a fearless disgust of depression and thus far none shall like to see its sight.

I sit down on my couch again, with a heavy thought of loss. My neck fails to handle its weight, but I sit silently, mouth closed, for I have no words, but a lot to think of. My hands missing her touch, my lips missing her bubble lips that speak of blown warm kiss. I try to know why I’m walking through such a river. Up ahead I see waterfall, a heavy fall I may say.

My hands are holding back at me, letting my fingers write short words. My nails cursed by a wicked spell cast by a frowned facial expression. I walk away with a sharp smile that seems abandoned. It’s all in the future, a time yet to come. Oh, a rude time indeed.

My eyes forge happy times in my presence, my facial expression so dull, not all can see it’s forged expression. I close the gate to my heart, rest my chin on my chest, imprison my tears, withdraw my hands as I draw in my knees on a wide selfless stone that brings sharing from the bottom of the earth. I see it as my “comfort!”. Oh, what a river. It’s fall strikes heavily with anger. I make myself comfortable and ignore the thirst.

It’s not yet autumn season. One would say bonds untie as trees let go of leaves. We shouldn’t be speaking behind our ears for tears may fall behind our depression. On such times of sorrow one drowns within loose, lazy nightmares, leaving one with an empty sigh.

Blue is the sky and gentle is the bottom of this wonderful earth. The changing of seasons brings birds home and comfort their nests. It’s us who smile when seeing their beauty’s reflection through calm colourless clouds. Be a true hero to your own stability; think young, live young and speak smart.

I live much on rebounding fragments of haunting fears that leave me crying like a feeble infant. I’m visited by depression, so all of it – all. I know not it, I fear it all, I live not for it brings a thought of fearful notorious death, scarring all. If I say I feel it, I will be lying?

I will not deny it, yes I’m driven beyond the motion of lies, caged between walls drawn of hurt and tearing me apart like a helpless sealed paper on a windy sight. I thought enough though to make a choice with no doubts under no threats. A choice to burn all mid grim nightmares. If reality provokes my perceptive, I’ll therefore let me all glide swiftly between boundaries of time. Time hung on tales of depression and ill air of survival holding on new minds. Yes, I know, my heart bleeds mountainous sorrow. Drops of my blood crawled upon innocent birds and forever fly with but hurting drop of blood on their feathers of a heartened being.

It’s not much of it to hold, oh, no, it’s a drilling will that mocks wounds of depression, a threat to undesirable birds which are mocked by bird limes and be caged forever with no care. Day fourth to come, I submit me all to my own judgement through such fallen time. It’s not I to scroll, no, no, I am no computer. Don’t cut me loose and paste my deeds within doubtful young foolish minds, no, I will not accept it, gossip must not storm in my presence.

A line is drawn within my heart. It’s a line that divides our bone. It comes with sharp knotted curves. It cracks the core of my heart and breaks through my bones, leaving me feeling like a crippled old beggar whose hunger isn’t restored. Yes, countless choices defined our fate. All is but haunting memory now. One that depressed my heart.

I don’t know which way to go, I don’t know what I’m seeing, but the pace of my feelings is so indolent to be doubted. I whip hair forth to hold on the pressure. I flatter the hurt so to cease but nothing seems to adjust. Like my mind so many words have fallen into my attention. Listen to me, listen please.

Let it go,
Let the hurt snooze,
Stop chasing a shameless girl.
Her beauty deceived you,
She lied.
Shed no tear for her,
Fall in love with the birds.
For they will set your heart free.
Their feathers bring comforting love.
Catch’em up so high.
Carter ‘em with compassion.
They will lead you through that
dull tunnel of depression.
Forget what you did,
Just be at your thought.
Be there,
Smile for a new season.

“Whose voice is this? Who are you? What do you want?”

These are questions to have left me with shock. My imagination trembling with so much coldness. All that I think of, gets in the way leaving me catching mangled breath and walking on sand without leaving any mark. It was all a memory chase, not of yesterday but long time ago. Oh, time’s bitterness, how sweat are you? Don’t you live by hurt? How far are you from God? Oh you so beautiful grievance. Thy are welcome to my doorstep.

That dream of me loving her, it’s all a nightmare now and then. I think of me as a newbie, an infant in the making. So to have bitten such moment with sharp teeth makes me wonder a lot. My eyes thin like that old beggar who was once rich and lost it all. My teeth bleed sadly as this tale breaks through me.

“Once upon a time,
There was an infant giant
With sharp teeth,
His beak tall as an ostrich,
Him short to the ground,
With two thin delicate legs.
“A vampire in the making!”.
He dwelled beyond his pleasures,
Crawled to his mother swiftly,
Gliding through her hands as
she swims him.
Having brains of a dolphin,
Never afraid of sharks.
Stubborn hunger.
Crushing walls of odds
Never thinking of any dentist
To help him with his teeth
He spoke a little,
Meant a lot.
Whispering was his disgust,
He spoke aloud,
that the whole village could hear his words.”

This is but one man’s thought, A dream of the race, memories on the chase, A speaking mind with branches of one man’s habit. An armour of a tongue and all rests warm in one man’s vicinity. I am that man, I am that giant, I am that infant and yes, I’ve written all that. A bible of love so thought eternal. A bible of one man’s confessions, oh, yes, it told new minds of tomorrow.

A son with pure brain, learning with attention. A son with a pure heart. A son who is a man. A son who is a boy and a brother in the making. A friend of all. A boy engulfed with dominance, shaped with lofty persistence and a friend of friends. Don’t get me wrong, No, I am a man.