The lights are out, the door is shut. All that can be heard is the creaking sound of an old ceiling fan yodeling away its routine cocktail of tunes. Except for a restless soul dwindling in strength, fighting the nuances in life, everything is mellowing into the charms of the night. Engulfed in the colour of darkness and bound by walls of ego, I’m shut tight in a room; I still find no reason as to why I should be. My mind conveys feeble solutions but my soul doesn’t seem to quite fraternize the need of the hour. I’m lost yet to be found. That’s the chant my very existence on earth reveals. I turn a mild left and shut my eyes tighter pressing hard on my pupils. Recumbent, I recover from the random murky bouts of mockery the very household I live with has put me through. This time there burns a candle, a soul in sight never flickering, never abstaining. Between the heights at which the holiest of the heavens stand to the depths of the earth where the darkest of secrets lie buried, I never have experienced such sweet constant flow of love cordoning dastardly inflicted pain. The feeling of having someone to cry for you when you’re sad is far more an earthly feeling. Even more when there’s someone to feel for you and respect your varying emotions, I claim it heavenly. The very thought of a soul longing to be mine following me where ever I go is enough to regenerate the spirit in me taking me miles forward to eternal warmth of love. My aim and reason of existence of life, balances on the tip of this undying flame. Without this unbundling synonym of life I’m nothing and I move no where.
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