I had a long wait, and finally it concluded. Never knew what it would have been if it were to end somewhat differently. Wishes and waits, and then comes a wittiness. With a long hold on myself, grasping all possible hopes I rose with every optimism, every sunrise, every dawn. I couldn't listen but be somewhere else, though people spelled million lines on me. That was as if being in some wonderland. Missing some of those, my very beloved mystifying beings, on this very un-divine land. Not being afraid of mighty furious cold, the sun nor the dust, I was in motion. But the "motion" never justified the phrase "go on". It didn't seem feasible. "Olden times" has really choked all possible ways for that "go on". Wasn't it possible to empathize me? I know it will persist. This prolong possession of thoughts and belief with this dampness of dew will continue. I will be "in motion" with this possession. I am growing old with this possession. After thousands of years when hair turns gray and skin wrinkles, ankle pains and knees jingle, when heart and veins become inefficient, I will be rich with my possession, richness will be in my beats. The new dimensions which was gifted in those couple of years could never be detached from my so called "successfully failed" life. Even if my life illuminates in my twilight years it will be a bright spring with those grassy meadows and nature's euphoria. Always with stretched arms, there will be an endless wait/hold. Can there be a promise for a next life?? A reincarnation "together"??? This isn't lunatic or absurd, rather this is trust...It's a way of life, keeping your hopes glittering and dreams alive, forever.