Strange… The mind tricks me with your presence. It is you i feel around me.
Why do i let the mind run wild…for you are a mere picture drawn on the canvas of the so called imagination…
The memory of the touch i once knew…the feel of the fingertips… my heart beats fast but only to remember, with you gone i will have no pleasure no more.
Dreaming is all what i am left with…when you are gone, far far away from me….but in this darkness the scent of your lost soul lingers, the whispers of your voice echoes and there right now, i wrap your memories, on this canvas of the so called imagination.
A Wanderer's Journey In A Blissful Bubble 