-Echo of the Strings-

I've squandered a month of tick-tocks and when tomorrow march in, the genesis of intellectual torment will begin. During the wakeful nights, the woman is retracing back to where she set foot on the exile places and the traces she left while she peregrinated from paces to paces. Trying to recall the kind of ataraxic moment, when life was slow and mellow. I miss those twinkling tick-tocks.

I can't remember when was the last time i step foot on the lodge. There were portion of epoch and pillars which are sculpted with tractions of a complete storyboard during my infantile years. I still heard the laughter and utters, like the echo of the strings that enliven the atmosphere. I miss them alot. Every morning without fail, he wakes up before dawn to do his stint. Before i stretch out my arms for a laze, there she is, calling my name as she knew i was awake and haste me to the commode. When i am all freshen up, i will race down the stairs with Nina to see who gets the treat from her and i always won because i am Start*. There she is, standing at the doorstep, reaching out her hands and there we are, step footing like penguins with a sneer on our faces, slowly placing our teeny hands on hers. Everyday we are pacing through the same trail and it's the trail of heartfelt devotion and love. Whenever i walk the trails, the footprints remind me of her. Ah Sam heart you.

I am blessed
=)