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I love her... And I miss her...

>> 19 April 2010

She lived… Today, as I turn back and see the days that I spent with her, a short touch of a soft feather… Today, I thought about her… I love her… She lived.

The dark side of the lone heart murmurs a soft song. It bleeds… Until the last thick blood drop, it bleeds, and it bleeds away the pain… Ah, the sound of a terror hits upon the sailors ship… It doesn’t sink… It doesn’t sink at all… The music’s on… In the backyard it still plays like a nightingale bidding her final farewell. She lived… in the twentieth century. Who was she? She had these pretty eyes who could fix a smile upon my little face… The doors are shut and I’m in a lost land, searching for the shining stars… In her eyes I saw thousand sparkling stars…

The amount of love that she gave is enough for a life span to remember… In her eyes I saw ancient tales. And her eyes were connected with my soul to search and seek sanity. She lived in the era where the Kings and Queens ruled the land. Across the empty shore, away from the filthy land, she sculpted her dreams. Alas, the dreams were taken away by some inmates who had no clout over the terrain. There was a time where it used to rain, always... Ah, yes, I said, always. And we used to stare upon the little branches which used to plunge little drops of unsullied water. Ah, fresh smell of the wet sand and the slow arrival of the December haze… Life… Ah, it hurts to recollect memoirs… I never used to write diaries… I never used to keep photographs… All that hurts me… We’re no man’s army to fight against the freedom that our great savior has granted us with. Today, I remember her. She lived. Until the lost moment, she will live in me… In my memories, she’ll… for ever and ever…

Note: This post is about my great grandmother. I do remember her. I loved her a lot. I guess I was 5 years old when she passed away. We both were traveling in a bus from her sister’s place, and she reached back home, and slept. She had mentioned to me that her head was aching. I never knew her time had come. Respect them. All of us will one day has to go through the same life. Respect grey hair.


inquisitive-life April 20, 2010 at 12:42 AM  

I love the flow of words... great job ...

Loking forward to more posts..

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