I see the paradise being painted in my head with the people who have somehow bitten off a chunk of whats left of my heart. The trees have gone dull, yet they remain sturdy as they refuse to let go of the ground from which their roots grow. The sky has turned gray, but the sun fights off the darkness with all its mightiness and grandeur. The rolling hills fade into the horizon as I look back to where my journey has led me to.

In my wrists remain the chains bound to the hands of those who have captivated the whole of me. Of the things I will never regret, some flashes of memories stand out above the rest. The mix of the old and the new, the the jungle which played as my sanctuary for time that has passed, and the lapse of moments that I will never be able to take back. Ever.

No one may never see it the way I do, for everyone else has been too busy picturing their own. For every stroke and stride, came a hand that managed to depict the wonders of one's imaginings into reality.

From the edge of my consciousness, the blatant truth comes knocking once again. No goodbye is ever easy, but it should come sweeter as you take it with a heart thats willing to let go and hold on at the same time.

To the players in my field and to the moving pictures of my paradise, I shall stare back to eternity that seemed like a moment too short for you and me.

Here's to letting go and holding on. :)
Were gonna be the makers of the greatest story ever told.