A sheltered vagabond, waiting

It has always been like that – a soft music accompanying my melancholy. Like a gentle tear made more fragile by the night, what silence do I seek amidst a blanket made of confusion? Would my solace be granted if I would learn how to think first, than to let my emotions come in? Some say it’s all the same. In the journey we all make, it’s not what comes first, but what comes out in the end.

It’s like wishing for an eternal instant that would seem like forever. A momentary glimpse on what heaven might feel; or how one’s wish could all become real. Touch my soul like the gentle breathing of the wind, and then leave me. Let the mark embedded on my heart be my salvation. I seek refuge to find peace.

Let me hear your story, not the ones fabricated by mere play of words. Let me hear what you have seen, so that your eyes may also become mine. Let me see what you hear, and in the words that you say, in your world for a while let me stay. I am a child willing to learn. I am empty, so fill me.