I watch from a distance Their smiles, laughs and pain It was a party for a reason From ashes it was made Deaf are some people The others dance in rage Joy played on a good stage But from heart it never came
Voices played on my heart I would never be the same Eyes glanced at my way Gesturing me to play
I smiled as if I enjoy Singing in their stage My heart ridden of any joys The end was so away
A watch I held in my hand Counting at the time Minutes turned to hours Like counting over one dime
The end did came at last I felt so free and saved From parties made from ashes And fiends waiting for a play
I watch from my bedroom window. The neverending roads below stare back at me with open arms. I counted the people below with my fingers. One, two and three. They left their footprints with the hundred that have been printed there before them. I tried to see their faces, but failed mercilessly. I guessed that one of them was a child, and the tall woman walking beside him was his mother. They disappeared from the sight of my eyes as quickly as they came. I pondered over the fact that I may or may not see them ever again.
The low creaking of a gate opening, pulled my eyes to the house opposite my own. My neighbor appeared through the gate, and he too, started walking through the road. He stopped under the streetlamp and sat down on the chair under it. His eyes wandered through the pages of a book.
I stared above over at the sky. The evening had already turned to the early stages of the night. I pulled my curtains over my window, my mind still thinking about the quietness of the night and the unpredictability of the journey called life.
The grains of sand escape my cupped hand. I watched every single grain hit the warm brown land. The sea crashed a little bit farther, and ancient sea shells collected at it’s edge. My eyes wandered to the calm sea, and it’s soft music roamed through my mind. The night sky above hung over me like a wish, and my moon watched over me. My eyes wandered to my left, and the old house met it’s glance.
The hue of gray, hung over the house above the cliff. It overlooked the vast sea and was treated to its tranquility. There were kind-masters who roamed the house, and some who were unkind. In that house once dwelled people who loved to walk by the sea and some who hated its music. Through its old rooms little boys and girls had once laughed and played. Now it stood idle until a new master came along to take it to their name. My eyes filtered away from the house and I wondered what the future would hold for the old house and me. The future and its uncertainty haunted us both, alike.