Post a Comment On: "I dream, the impossible dream."

These are the warning signs. There is quiet desperation all around the outer calm seas of peace. The epicentre of the quake lying right in the heart of the ocean just waiting to let its fury get unleashed on the young and vibrant ocean waves. The sun is out not to spread light but to show to the world the dance of devastation that will follow in the days to come.

All seems calm but it's just the silence before the storm, the silence before the scream of fear, the silence before the ocean waves start to roar; roar with anguish, shock and pain. They will be singled out from the place they thought they belonged. They will be torn away from their abode, from the seas they will be shunted to the alien land...yet they will long to get back to the sea, and trying to find their way back their urgency is going to tear all that stands in their way.
They are hurt and they are traumatised. They lived in the ocean, they belonged there and today they were shunned. There were stormy nights when they roared aloud fighting the rains. They rose and fell, angrily and defiantly, for protecting the deep heart of the ocean from being disturbed.

They didn't know in tht heart lay the epicentre of their destruction. They always blew, but not far was the day they would be blown away.

Yet all was calm. They were on the surface, benign and naive, they stood there in the cold wintery nights just belonging to the ocean. They thought that weathers change and they held ground. Weathers change, but they don't always get better. They would soon find out.

It was not like that always. There were days when they played and rejoiced, their softness and their warmth cushioned many a traveller. Light came out to see the romance of the giant sea bed and the long waves. The birds travelled far to see the joy of the waves dance in joy, and the happiness of love.

But not every story in the world has an end.
Not all lyrics meet the music to liven them.
Canvas' remain bare waiting for colors.
Flowers keep waiting for spring.
Flames burn their lovers, the fireflies.
And this ocean will leave this wave.

It's just a matter of time. And it would be another story that did not meet an end, the music of the waves will soon be lost in history, the colors of the sea would go...
Just a matter of time. A miracle?? Oh why not...Hopes were never the issue, it was just the reality that never lived up to them.