[“I cannot marry Henry.” She shouted so hard that the people beside her
began to mumble. In a matter of seconds, Henry ran to her.
“What happened here? What have you done? Leave!” He ordered Frederic.
“Henry! I just don’t feel well.” Ity exclaimed. Frederic left and she continued arguing with Henry.
“Is that an excuse to call the wedding off?”
“Why are you accusing me of that?”
“You have always been in love of Frederic. Haven’t you?”
“No! He is my mother’s husband.” Ity said.]
Create my future,
forgiving my past,
and transform the present
into a rainbow of infinity.
{...Colors, life is full of diversity, and I ask myself: Where will I find the common ground? Suddenly, I found you, and the answers seemed irrelevant. Life is to get into living, and then, get into being...}
You can imagine a better future,
transforming past into starry flowers,
and kissing the moon with the present.
{...The past can be a brilliant star or a sorrowful sack of rocks. What would you like to carry? Heaven or stones? }
Don't regret,
better create:
Rain, colors, stars,
flowers, and moon.
{...How much time is spent regretting? What kind of life would you
live if instead of regretting, you would transform into... the better
future? }
Let those tears
wash the dead end past,
and slowly travel into space
until there is no more...
{...If you need to cry, do it, but don't forget crying is needed to purify... It is a passenger in our life, but not the train, nor the ticket. }
You may have reached heaven.
You may have understood:
Who was you.
