*Drawn With the Pen of Moment*

Whatever time will be given to us…
The words that still linger within my nights as  heavy, dark clouds. What is Time but a little brick inside the wall of Eternity.  And who are we but just a tiny part of it, forced to be around without ever being asked, put here by the mere accident… Just as small dots on a sorely slender paper, we are drawn with the Pen of Moment.

The days in front of us are blurred. Yet they sometimes sound as the windy echoes of the past. Smiling. Crying. Weeping. Sometimes it feels like their purple-black pain cuts us, rips our scars. But what would we be instead? How would our paths ever be able to cross each other if there was no suffering? Or Pain? Giving us the reason to Be, giving us the second chance. Giving us what we needed to feel alive…

Whatever time will be given us.
Is that all, or is there more? Is that time Now, so we should be grateful
for feeling the warmth of one another soul merely from the distance?
Is that all we ever deserved – to feel that flame of life only as a bogus sense, not more than just a touch of a soft silky veil falling down on us, offering only the glimpse of the warmth for a second, before it’s all gone?

Whatever time will be given us.
The grains of our sand clock disappear one by one. What if the time just pass by, here and now, what if all we have is just a glare of happiness, never meant to come true? What if the time showes itself as a merciless master, beating us, not allowing us to inhale the desired closeness? What if the words are all we have, everything we can give?

Still…
I was with you in the Land of Romance, we touched our imaginary world with the fragile wings of our unhappy souls, we saw it with our eyes closed.

I will never ever regret.

***

© Eclipse 2008 – 2011

Prompted by Tales Thursday

Image by NadyaBird

~ by Eclipse on April 27, 2011.