Strong as an iron bar he smashed misery out of his life.
Friendships have broken, dreams have been shattered, he treated ’em all as a baseball and hit it hard enough for making a home run.
His home being whichever valley had the right breeze then.
He moved on…time and again,
without losing the smile.
Nobody could suck the beaming spirit out of his body. Nobody!
He could still cross fences of desolation, and fortify the pillars of trust.
Wanderer, he, had come across different brands of humans in his expedition,
And he knew what farewell meant.
And yet he didn’t. When it came to her.
The new chapter took away the words that described her,
Glued to that ink-less void, he sat petrified, as people, life and time lapsed.
Days flew him to some valley’s breeze, some mountain offered a hand,
Time wrapped him in a new face,
The cold world solidified him again,
Only this time, he could not be less brittle.
Poignant. And so humane.
Farewell to thee! but not farewell
To all my fondest thoughts of thee:
Within my heart they still shall dwell;
And they shall cheer and comfort me.
O, beautiful, and full of grace!
If thou hadst never met mine eye,
I had not dreamed a living face
Could fancied charms so far outvie.
If I may ne’er behold again
That form and face so dear to me,
Nor hear thy voice, still would I fain
Preserve, for aye, their memory.
That voice, the magic of whose tone
Can wake an echo in my breast,
Creating feelings that, alone,
Can make my tranced spirit blest.
That laughing eye, whose sunny beam
My memory would not cherish less; —
And oh, that smile! whose joyous gleam
Nor mortal language can express.
Adieu, but let me cherish, still,
The hope with which I cannot part.
Contempt may wound, and coldness chill,
But still it lingers in my heart.
And who can tell but Heaven, at last,
May answer all my thousand prayers,
And bid the future pay the past
With joy for anguish, smiles for tears?
–Anne Bronte