Month: November 2016

Will you still Love me the same?

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Will you still love me the same
When the winter starts to snow,
and the wolf starts to howl,
under the moonlit of deserted street,
full of horror, full of terror.

Will you stay with me in my dreams,
till the dawn,
hands in hands,
staring into your eyes,
silencing all my demons,
dancing on our own under the light of lamppost,
till the night falls off,
and the dawn reclaims its throne.
You don’t know how much I need you,
whispering your name in my dream,
hoping you could silent me up, by
pressing your lips against mine,
and a silent joy of hearing you whisper ‘more’

Will you still love me the same
When my hands grow old,
and they start to tremble,
when they miss the touch of your skin,
and ache for your love,
remembering the night of our youth,
warm with the passion of our sweet love.

Will you still love me the same
When my bones start to crumble,
When my body turns to ashes,
I cannot promise you that I’ll rise from the ashes, or
from the ashes of the ashes.

But I promise you that,
I’ll be there with you,
In the golden pearl of dawn,
touching your naked skin with my hands.
In the wind that crawls through your clothes,
taking the scent of your body with me.
In the fallen leaves of autumn,
which will kiss your bare feet with its rusted lips.
In the dark streets of twilight,
protecting you like a silhouette shadow.
In the smell of blooming spring,
putting smile across your ripe lips.
In the waves of ocean,
flowing and flowing.
In the emptiness of nothingness,
untrodden path in search of adventure.
In the warmth of snowflakes,
bringing peace in your life.

Will you still love me the same
When nothing lasts forever,
Will you be my nothing?


Excuse Me?

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I never thought two words would change my life,
I was in love even before my eyes saw your
milky feet, curved figure, parted lips.
I was in love with those two words,
I never knew what you talked about afterwards,
everything around you faded away,
In my vision,
It was just you,
and you alone.
Your hands moving like oceanic waves,
your hair blowing with a cold breeze,
your eyes dancing with your beautiful words,
your face glowing with the first ray of sunshine,
I was in a complete trance.
Suddenly, your lips stopped moving,
your expressions changed, and
confusion on your face
brought me back to reality.
In the prevailing silence between us,
gathering my strength,
all I could whisper was,
“Excuse Me?”

Give me Back my Childhood

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I am a broken child
I am a cursed child
I am an abused child
I am an accused child
I didn’t do anything to deserve this
Give me back my childhood
Give me back what I have lost

I am a child filled with horror nights
I am a child wrecked with promised love
I am a child broken with hollow trust
I am a child shattered into thousand pieces
I didn’t do anything to deserve this
Give me back my childhood
Give me back what I have lost

Third Letter

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September 25, 1995
Dear Catherine,

A month has passed since I’ve written, but it has seemed to pass much more slowly. Life passes by now like the scenery outside a car window. I breathe and eat and sleep as I always did, but there seems to be no great purpose in my life that required active participation on my part. I simply drift along like the messages I write you. I do not know where I am going or when I will get there.

Even work does not take the pain away. I may be diving for my own pleasure or showing others how to do so, but when I return to the shop, it seems empty without you. I stock and order as I always did, but even now, sometimes glance over my shoulder and write this note to you, I wonder when, or if, things like that will ever stop.

Without you in my arms, I feel an emptiness in my soul. I find myself searching the crowds for your face—I know it is an impossibility, but I cannot help myself. My search for you is a never-ending quest that is doomed to fail. You and I had talked about what would happen if we were forced apart by circumstance, but I cannot keep the promise I made to you that night. I am sorry, my darling, but there will never be another to replace you. The words I whispered to you were folly, and I should have realized it then. You—and you alone—have always been the only thing I wanted, and now that you are gone, I have no desire to find another. Till death do us part, we whispered in the church, and I’ve come to believe that the words will ring true until the day finally comes when I, too, am taken from this world.




Manuscript from Message in a Bottle by Nicholas Sparks

Second Letter

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March 6, 1994
My Darling Catherine,

Where are you? And why, I wonder as I sit alone in a darkened house, have we been forced apart? I don’t know the answer to these questions, no matter how hard I try to understand. The reason is plain, but my mind forces me to dismiss it and I am torn by anxiety in all my waking hour. I am lost without you. I am soulless, a drifter without a home. a solitary bird in a flight to nowhere. I am all these things, and I am nothing at all. This, my darling, is my life without you. I long for you to show me how to live again.

I try to remember the way we once were, on the breezy deck of Happenstance. Do you recall how we worked on her together? We became a part of the ocean as we rebuilt her, for we both knew it was the ocean that brought us together. It was times like those that I understood the meaning of true happiness. At night, we sailed on blackened water and I watched as the moonlight reflected your beauty. I would watch you with awe and know in my heart that we’d be together forever. is it always that way, I wonder, when two people are in love? I don’t know, but if my life since you were taken from me is any indication, then I think I know the answers. From now on, I know I will be alone.

I think of you, I dream of you, I conjure you up when I need you most. This is all I can do, but to me it isn’t enough. It will never be enough, this I know; yet what else is there for me to do? If you were here, you would tell me, but I have been cheated of even that. You always knew the proper words to ease the pain I felt. You always knew how to make me feel good inside.

Is it possible that you know how I feel without you? When I dream, I like to think you do. Before we came together, I moved through life without meaning, without reason. I know that somehow, every step I took since the moment I could walk ways a step toward finding you. We were destined to be together.

But now; alone in my house, I have come to realize that destiny can hurt a person as much as it can bless him, and I find myself wondering why—out of all the people in all the world, I could ever have loved—I had to fall in love with someone who was taken away from me.




Manuscript from Message in a bottle by Nicholas Sparks

First Letter

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July 22, 1997
My Dearest Catherine,

I miss you, my darling, as I always do, but today is especially hard because this ocean has been singing to me, and the song is that of our life together. I can almost feel you beside me as I write this letter, and I can smell the scent of wildflowers that always reminds me of you. But at this moment, these things give me no pleasure. Your visits have been coming less often, and I feel sometimes as if the greatest past of who I am is slowly slipping away.

I am trying, though. At night when I am alone, I long for you, and whenever my ache seems to be the greatest, you still seem to find a way to return to me. last night, in my dreams, I saw you on the pier near Wrightsville Beach. The wind was blowing through your hair, and your eyes held the fading sunlight. I am struck as I see you leaning against the rail. You are beautiful, I think as I see you, a vision that I can never find in anyone else. I slowly begin to walk toward you, and when you finally turn to me, I notice that others have been watching you as well. “Do you know her?” they ask me in jealous whispers, and as you smile at me, I simply answer with the truth. “Better than my own heart.”

I stop when I reach you and take you in my arms. I long for this moment more than any other. It is what I live for, and when you return my embrace, I give myself over to this moment, at peach once again.

I raise my hand and gently touch your cheek, and you tilt your head and close your eyes. My hands are hard and your skin is soft, and I wonder for a moment if you’ll pull back, but of course you don’t. you never have, and it is at times like this that I know what my purpose is in life.

I am here to love you, to hold you in my arms, to protect you. I am here to learn from you and to receive your love in return. I am here because there is no other place to be.

But then, as always, the mist starts to form, as we stand close to one another. It is a distant fog that rises from the horizon, and I find that I grow fearful as it approaches. It slowly creeps In, enveloping the world around us, fencing us in as if to prevent escape. Like a rolling cloud, it blankets everything, closing, until there is nothing left but the two of us.

I feel my throat begin to close and my eyes well up with tears because I know it is time for you to go. The look you give me at that moment haunts me. I feel your sadness and mow loneliness, and, the ache in my heart that had been silent for only a short time grows stronger as you release me. and then you spread your arms and step back, into the fog because it is your place and not mine. I long to go with you, but your only response is to shake your head because we both know that is impossible.

And I watch with breaking heart as you slowly fade away. I find myself straining to remember everything about this moment, everything about you. But soon, always too soon, your image vanishes and the god rolls back to its faraway place and I am alone on the pier and I do not care what others think as I bow my head and cry and cry and cry.




-Manuscript from Message in a bottle by Nicholas Sparks

Dear Sir

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Dear Sir,
winds are a bit cold,
fog gives a unique refreshing bold.
winter is definitely on its way.
I’m finally back at the place,
where I belong,
to my home.
But this home doesn’t feel like before.
People are strange,
their visage is layered with different face,
the smell has an entire new taste,
I can’t hold this emotional state,
tears are rolling down my scarred soul.
I feel alone,
more than ever.
And when I think that perhaps,
it is I who have changed.
Out of all the people,
I hope you understand.