A sacred September evening

He was sad so he could not feel any cold or filth around himself…

There was plenty of it in his life…

He was just staring at this eternal dome of autumn sky…

And in the street that same temporal life was going on – the life where someone will also die the next day…

People were walking around and smiling…

It seemed like they were happy and proud of been alive and living…

They simply did not want to think about what tomorrow would bring them…

They felt good in the cigarette smoke and the alcohol fostered and exhilarated this feeling…

Vivid cars that were riding through gave a happy feeling just like the high sky-scrapers poured over with sunset…

Nobody wished to see anymore the final sad look at the sky given by someone who was dying near, next to a bench in a summer city park…

He was once also walking around these streets and smiling at those ever-present endless passer-byes…

When he was alive he used to be kind and had a wish to live and work…

He never harmed anyone…

He was in love and beloved… 

But the flowing time changed his once impressive posture and gait…

The endless overcoming of these boring dull days has made him tired…

And so he took his final walk around this familiar park that once used to be full of hopes …

Wearily and blissfully he sat down on a familiar bench and let down his heavy hands in silence….

There was no pain anymore…

The shadow of death sat beside, shrouded him cautiously in her silent soft veil and shut his eyes that became so weak from struggling…

His soul moved off and rushed upward widely spreading its wings …

To where the wings of dream used to take him before…

The invisible sorrow swept across the park and heavy leaves scaring away the birds which were sitting there…

Human life is like a fallen leave…

It was admired before and the rain would give life to it…

This leaf was strong and green. It was able to cover birds sitting near and singing it the song of life and joy…

But the autumn air was filling itself with cool wind and its growing gust was ready to interrupt his life once and for all…

The still warm sun will warm up his ultimate dream about the beautiful meadow of flowers from the previous summer…

The leaf will tear away from a branch with another gust of the hurricane wind, rise high and smoothly come down onto the cool ground showing its autumn beauty…

The snow which fell out in the morning will cover it with a snow-white veil…

The extremely beautiful weather will decorate this spot in its own way…

An invisible lantern of the Creator will light up this road…

It became home for those who lost it here for ever…

Home is the last thing that pities us….

Автор: magsaund

Образование высшее, экономист. Живу осмысленно, имею привычку думать самостоятельно, т.к. всегда учусь чему то и имею свое мнение, и понимаю, что каждый несет свою ношу. Если ноша бросается, начинаются плохие привычки.

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