I chose what I am to be.

This post is in continuation to Sunset at rum point
Change is strange phenomenon.The more you resist it,the harder it is to contain.

Today I am with the sands again,alone.I sit alone with the sun going down, wondering what the next day will bring. No I am not thinking of the sunsets.With the sunsets I sit alone.The fear of a thing lasts till chance brings it to your door. Today I am afraid of the sunrise. Another new day, another sunrise for a day I can forget.Another day that has no meaning, no colors , no fragrance , no beauty. Today I sit alone with the sunset. The winds bring me the familiar musty touch. But no hair blows unto my face.

I hold unto the sands , afraid to let go of each grain. Each grain that has the indelible touch. I miss the shallow impression on the sands where she stood. I miss looking at the sun, unafraid.

I look back and I laugh, a hollow mirthless one. I laugh at the sun. I laugh at my fears.What am I afraid of?Tomorrow will be another day to live .A day I may forget coming here .A day when I may not want to spend the rest of my sunsets with anyone. But something says the lesser I come here, the harder will the scents get. Harder it will be to defy the sun. The day I stop will be the day I stop to live. I will be among those that jog across the face of the ocean and stop not to challenge the setting sun.

But I am afraid. Afraid of facing the sun alone. I am afraid of the concept of the next day. This turn I am alone. And then I realize, I have no fear of losing it tomorrow.Yes, I will come. I will miss the smell of her around me. I will miss the way the winds scattered her sandy hair all over my face. I will miss the way the sun hid behind her beautiful face. But the sun will go down and will rise tomorrow. I will live. I will face the sun and though I stand alone I will.I will not be afraid.

This day is another day. Tomorrow will end some day. No, I live not to be with her. But every evening, when I come back, I will close my eyes. And I will laugh at the setting sun. Does it have a choice? It does not! But I have. I love her. She whose scent hangs thin. But I will close my eyes and mourn her.The morning may come after the night. But the moment I close my eyes I realize I still breathe. I still love. I still live.

I am what I am, because today; I chose what I am to be.

In my mind I live

There we are.Enough is enough.To put on the colours of mourning is easy.To reach out from hell is easy enough.Some people call it strength.I call it weakness.Weakness to survive.Weakness to live.Weakness to feel pain.Some people say I do not feel it.But I enjoy it; for the memories that are with it are too valuable or let us say inseparable to erase.

In my mind I live,
In places where none belong,
Sunsets , where I live alone,
In the winds , I feel,
A touch , a smile and her.
A sunset yet to live,
The winds still musty from her,
The memories that still call,
To the winds that never die.
My bottle calls, deep I drink,
But my bottles aside,
And still I drink for her.
I dream and will i wake,
Do i want , do i dare,
Still I slumber ...half dead ...part awake.