Chapter 1
There was a red, crimson flower growing, spreading its petal mercilessly. It was exceptionally bright against the white background, as though sun rays at night. It would had been beautiful, if not for what it represented. But.. aren't some things beautiful because of their sorrowful nature? O, the tragic love stories, of heartbreaks and butterflies. But death? The panic as each drop of crimson drains your beauty. Doesn't red represent heat? So why is your hand getter colder as you get painted in red?
Don't cry, you told me, grasping my hand. We will never be apart.
I nodded; its the sunlight, so bright that my eyes watered. So bright that the shards of glasses protested with coloured rays. I remembered that you said rainbows bring miracles.
But you lied. If so I will be holding your hand now. We will be walking down the beach, kicking shells and pebbles, waiting for the sun to set. You said the most magnificent scene was the moment before it dies off. So will you rise again?
I've been waiting for your return. You said we will never be apart. When i find you, i will pretend to be angry with you for the long wait, only to turn around to embrace you. I will stroke the black, silky hair of yours, letting the fragrance fill my nostrils.
I will... I will... I will...
Friday, October 12, 2007
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