Moments come and moments go. She waits and waits. Her look is up on the sky. The birds flying away to the land of freedom. She just stares back lazily. She stares back to her long lost memories. The memories that give her a pale of tears. Tears of hope and despair. Will she walk along the aisle of life? The life has been an earthly metaphor to her. Nothing less, nothing more. Here she comes and goes back to her world of patience and glory. But it is glory of nothing. Yet she waits for the defining moments. Moments come and moments go to retrieve her patience and glory. If anything happens...
What will happen to her world? Her world of forgotten moments. She waits and waits, if anything happens but nothing happens at the end of her quest for a moment's sojourn into the depth of her unrequited voice, the voice that never tolled for the defining moments. It is like waiting for Godot to come. But nobody comes and nobody goes back to her lost horizon. Only the sky sometimes rains for her soul. When the moonless night shines on her forehead, she just wrinkles back to her pains and passion. But she never gives in. She dives into the vortex of console zone. It seems to be far removed from her virtual world.
Age has taken her pristine charm. Mystery has overlapped her body and soul. Will she get back her lost wealth of wisdom? Will she burn the flame of her life's destiny? She waits and waits for something to happen. The white ship is coming through the mist. Will it carry her to her aisle of destiny? Will there be a rain again in her soul? Birds are flying for freedom. She reaches for them. They are beyond her reach. Who will be with her? Who will be with her to her path of salvation. Captivating moments have silenced her unrequited voice. Only the walking stick lies by her side. Will it be her companion to the other world?
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