She
knows their worlds are far apart. But she still has hopes not in the reality
but only in the dimension beyond space and time. She dwells in consciousness and
unconsciousness. She has two sides – the one is real and the other is extreme.
Her extreme bonded with his extreme and they became one. They felt one. It was not
a feeling, not a thought, not an expression but a realization. They were in
now. She doesn’t expect her king to go beyond his walls because she can’t run
away from hers. She is trapped yet free and so is he. She wants to keep him
alive and with her just like this – just in her stories. After all, that is
what she always was, is and will be – a story teller. She met her other half
who completed her story. Insanity met the hungry fool. He said, “Maybe that is
how stories are written”. Losing was easy with him – losing herself. How much
she longed for such a loss in order to feel her real self. The king wished to
whisper in her ears, “I love you.”
A drop a tiny drop An invisible drop of water Rolls down so slowly So steadily,when your heart shatters It is if you think A hard line that you said But it is instead What has been accumulated in the head It just overflows The pains,the anguish and desires The suppressed thoughts The feelings,anger,jealousy as fires The small drop as rolls Becomes a big tsunami Which fills a bucket An ocean,just because of your tyranny When it hurts;the heart gets overwhelmed with emotions Of hatred,love and superiority Of danger,security and caution The tear creates a world for some that lasts forever Imprinted on heart an image Of someone you care

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