It’s a lonely road, and one I never thought I’d travel. I never would have imagined this to be my path of life. It’s been an uphill struggle, with sharp bends and sudden dips—sometimes I lost sight of the top of that hill.
But it’s the hill I chose to climb, and now… here I am, at its peak, looking back into my past. My perspective has changed. Here I am, at its peak, and I’m not looking up anymore.
(Have I left you behind? I reach out, can you take my hand? But everyone is still climbing their hill—I’ve reached the top of mine.) Here I am.
Where do I go now? There’s no more path, no more road to travel, not like the one I had. Will I ever get that back, that path towards something?
Where do I go now?
I’m wandering. I’m lost.
Can you see me, from the top of this hill? Can you see who I am?
See who I am. I am what I love.
And I love you. I love what you do; I love who you are. Each and every one of you—a unique and individual human, climbing their own hill. So take my hand, and we’ll walk this next path together.
Those flowers which once thrived in the wild, on the ground,their petals like confetti lay piled. In time their lovely petals had leisurely unfurled, and now with time they’ve turned stiff and curled.
Seasons ago,some were purple, some were red, adding lovely colours to green,grassy flower bed. Some were scarlet too and some were pretty blue, but slowly-n-steadily they’ve turned to brown hue.
Those flowers which smiled and merrily bloomed, now appear lifeless, limp, grotesque and doomed. Whose exquisite fragrance in the air once lingered, those sweet flowers lost their scent as they withered.
And as they watch their successors take their place, they realise the fact that they’re no more in the race. But their history is rich and shall never be forgotten, those wilted flowers, once a delight, now have rotten.