I don’t want to write. I have lost all energy to think and that comes before I write anything. Every night when I stand on my balcony I feel the urge to jump down the five floors and kill myself. Maybe I will die even before I have reached the ground; maybe I will taste the blood in my mouth before I die. I want to know what lies beyond, in case there is peace in darkness. This is the same balcony from which I used to enjoy looking at the drunken sea. I loved the large number of eagles soaring in the sky, the crows scavenging for food. I loved to see the waves rippling with energy, threatening to break the heart of the shore. I wanted to climb to the top of the tallest trees, to fly with the mightiest eagles. I loved the cool sea breeze that flowed all over me. I loved to stand naked in the balcony and let nature clasp me to her bosom. I loved everything because love was real.
Today when I go to sleep I hope that I should not wake up. When living is so much pain life is a farce. I wake up night after night after having the most beautiful dreams. My beautiful dreams have turned into my worst nightmares now. Sleep draws my eyelids closer, yet, I like awake in fear of the next dream. When I wake up in the morning I am nothing but a shadow, I live only in my dreams.
I want her in my arms and I want to kiss her, write poems for her like I used to. Ever since consciousness kissed my spirit I have loved her as no man has ever loved a woman. Yet, today, I feel as if I loved none but myself. I was selfish. I wanted the world for myself and her too. She is too big for that—only the ashes are mine.
It was easier the first time. I never knew that she was mine. If it was unbearable then, it is hopelessness now for me. It was a fire that burnt me inside out then, only ambers and ashes now. I wish I had the clouds on my side to carry my love to her, but I am all alone. I had all the world to myself; I have lost even my soul in my arrogance. She gave me the best gift ever – her love; and I flew. The higher I flew the more brash I grew, refusing to believe in my own mortality. When the winds have left even the invincible eagle is nothing but a mere paper model which will come crashing to the ground.
If you ever love a woman, set her free. If she comes back to you she will stay. Take care of her for she can make you the king of all you survey. If you turn into a monster, her love will redeem you back into a human being, for such is the power of her love. She will go smiling to the grave with you for such is the power of her love. If you are as lucky as I was, remember not to slight her for she makes you who you are. It will be too late before you realise that you have lost what was yours to claim, yet never again yours.
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