So stunning was she!
Walking down her aisle on the paths of the streets.
Treading pass foretime along sides white and black.
Dance tapping in those black shoes of hers.
In a petite beau avalanche of a dress.
Stunning was she still, hopping.
I would like write to you in French.
But for this...I have no other way to express.
Past white and black.
Still in black and white.
Her steps forward led her to the unforeseen unknown.
A sharp pain in her chest.
Mild as it was.
It dug into her veins in her heart.
Striking what wasn't meant to be touched.
She couldn't call out for help.
Cos at that very moment, she lost her voice.
Her right foot.
To the rest part of her
The whole street stopped.
All activities were on hold.
As if time wanted to join in the furor,
Life itself paused.
In drops yet in a stream.
Gushing fast and also slow.
Her right foot began.
Began its journey to the world's variable.
Bits by bits.
She went apart.
Like ashes after fire's afterwards.
Hmm...I still hear her pains in my head.
I still remembered that day I saw her last.
Stuck between time's idleness,
She still went apart.
Until it reached her bosom.
To her hair,
As pretty as it were,
Frozen in the wind which stopped due to time's joblessness
Shall I tell or say to you,
What was last of her?. It was her tears.
Still gushing like a tap.
Still in the wilderness of her becomeness.
Right there she began.
Right there she ended.
It began again.
Life continued again.
Time thought it was about time it left.
'Everything is boring'
'Ouch' a woman in a snowy dress exclaimed.
'What's the matter, honey?' her husband asked her.
'Nothing but it feels like I have been struck by a person's sorrow'
'Eish, don't be silly'
The woman smiled.
Unknown to her, what she felt was really of sorrow.
A lament of a young lady.
In whose tears were her last moments.