Of Faded Beads and Rusted Flowers - October, 2006

When I had written this

I was trying to figure what I truly felt for him and not just at that moment. Nothing else but brutal truth. It was more for me than for anybody else. Because I was in denial. I was in love with the feeling of what could have been and not what was.

And so I shut my heart out and wrote as and what my soul dictated ..word by word; raw thoughts and bare feeling; truth and nothing else.

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"Many dreams are born dead and some are buried alive.."

You are the shadow of a memory; the memory of a fading thought. You are everything that could be and is not.

You are the warmth of a brightly lit lamp that could show the path but never guide the traveller; the vague feeling that could never be expressed - neither in words or more..

You are a dream not yet born; a desire not yet ignited; a question not yet asked.. an answer uninvited.

You are the stillness of a moment; the wind that I fail to catch; a wish buried and lost under the heap of broken pieces of fallen stars.

You are the breeze unembraces; a trail untraced; a discovery unknown; a fidgety thought which slips out the moment you begin to try to hold.

You are the last breath of a dying hope; the first emotion in a tear's heart; an unfinished piece of a perfectly designed art.

You are the first spark of passion and also the last; the kiss that lingers and leaves traces on the lover's lips. You are the unperturbed silence of a broken heart; the ashes of the memoirs of what could have been but is not.

You are every joy that slipped away; every wound that chose to stay. You are the beginning, you are the end; not a lover .. not even a friend.