A letter...

img from google

My love,

Thousands and thousands of dreams I hold not in my heart, my love, they were just very few, less than my fingers could count but they were not just dreams but the igniters of my soul, the-something that makes me still live around.  The inferno of my spirit, my burning soul, rips my eye lashes and brings tears in it because of the fumes it generates, wipe it not but just lend me your shoulders.

Do not hold me when I fall down, a scar one more wont make much difference to my countenance, but be around me and say ‘just a small one’.  Don’t suffer my pain, do not take it to your heart but just fondle my wounded chest and I will rise again by your care.  I knew well that my thoughts are not a stagnant water because stagnant waters generates dangerous microbes, I love to be a fierce water fall and rush like a river and finally cuddled with the immaculate ocean of love of yours, just wait for the time for me to disappear in you. 

Do not kill your dream for me because I know it hurts more that a stabbed knife in chest than to stride out from a dream.  I can be a light in your chosen path; I can hold your hands for you to commute safely.  Try not to decipher my silence because I failed to do it to myself.  It’s in silence the God manifest himself in the human hearts, it is when we hear the voice of our soul, more than any human voice I am in need of my soul to talk, to clarify my doubts.  Hundreds of questions do trouble my thoughts, and the answers I seek not from you, my love, or in anybody I know.

Few very lines, I have, to express but the-what between the lines is all I have, to speak.  My fears are hell a lot, that which makes me to go back to my womb to close my eyes from the phantoms of failures, to close my ears to eschew hearing from the demon’s talk after the effect of defeats.  Scoop me in your palms, pamper me when I am exhausted with failures tell me that you will be there to love me till I breathe my last. 

Be the first one to celebrate, my love, in case of my success for all it is for you, a dedication for the precious and stupendous love you had had for me.  There is something, I forgot to tell you; my first dream – you.

With love.