I was waiting for the time when the spring will blow its trumpet….
When will the warm breeze blow over me…
When will the gentle wind rouse me from the wintry sleep….

Once a poet called this wind…”Wild”…an exorcist…”breath of Autumn’s beings”…the spirit…the life of personified Autumn…
Like an enchanter…blowing away the dead…decay…pale….phase of life…
Anticipation of a future….revitalization…regeneration…
A life-size assertion…!!!…

This is the wind I was looking for…which will appear like a storm…carrying bits and pieces of words…and will drive the life out of soil…
A touch of life would I feel…in contrast to ‘a claustrophobic state of affair’…a divine touch…
I’ll be possessed…!!!…

Then I realized one day…
I mistook love for this wind…a muse for motivation…angel for tranquility…
Love was the rain…and washed away my words…
Muse was buried…in the darkness of the soil…
The angel I longed…dated back in history…
Where am I now…was I living in a world of fantasy…???…or I lost it…because of the foolish me…
I don’t know…!!!…

This should end my writings on writing…I have realized…even if I search for years…I’ll not find what really these words are doing to me…
And will remain a poor soul…eternally in quest of words…and will go on try to arrange them…shape them…in a strange sense of meaning…
I give up…!!!…