Unfinished with No Title

How can you ever tell if life’s lying to you? Well, it’s in the way the wind blows… and how the clouds arrange themselves in the blue and gray sky.

The flowers start to hide their magnificent blossoms from you and the birds deny you even one song. You suddenly wonder, how in the world can things swerve out of a straight line when you thought all along that the bliss will be forever.

The path you used to take every morning is now filled with brown deadly thorns. The moment you lower your right foot, you feel the tingly sensation of pain that seems to rush through your veins. You think, “How am I going to reach my destination with this very painful journey?”. You either have to bold your way through the thorns, or stand there looking at the far side forever.

As you start to forward and inch your way through those blades of agony, you can only think of the endless cuss you can utter to release the burning sensation, but no single jargon manages to escape from your thirsty mouth.

The disappointments surge through you just as the pangs of hurt attack your throat, and your whole being. You’re alone and lonely, except for those thorns you have stepped and will still step.

The clouds are gone. The happy blue tint of the sky has somehow faded into a somber gray. There are no daffodils in sight. Even the morning star, Sun, seems to have hidden for your wrought skin cannot feel the droplets of sunshine anymore.