Backdrop

The skies were a detached grey. The winds whispered secrets into the air and the trees intimately drew close to each other in order to listen to things that concerned them not. A sullen grumbling cloud wanted to tear itself open and finally let go. It towed along anyways. Hopeful. Some more fluffy grey fellows dragged behind.

It wasn’t really an impregnated state. There was motion. You could feel it flow. Within you and outside. But the horizons pulled back, moving away…expanding nothingness.

The winds tried to flirt with careless locks and the locks played along. Constantly being tucked behind by a conformist, they fought for their free space. The eyes tried avoiding confrontation, they were too hallowed to vandalize.

And in the midst of unplanned chaos the lover sang his song. A song of acute longing, of loss and of a yearning that could contract the being within. A song which beseeched the sun to shine and which implored time to rewind. A song which longed for tranquility.

As night stepped in stealthily, the obviousness of it was silently drawn in. The winds ceased and a lifeless calmness took over. A dead and unfinished picture finally captured. The clouds moved away for the stars to flicker. And a shy moon snuggled high up above. Breathing silently. While its loneliness hid behind a shield of never ending distance.