Twenty Letters scattered and wrapped with lovely blues, lie outside my door. I've been trying to read them as i try to read the stars that erect to form constellations in the night sky.
But they are mysterious. Mysterious and abstruse like those exquisite dreams that are found deep within the ocean of slumber.
No matter how much i try, The door to those exotic letters seem to be closed for eternity.
And I know myself, My soul will always seek those hidden words but I'll hold my scrutiny when I'm around you but abandon it in solace.
So for now, I'll plait my thoughts in my tainted wooden closet so that when i wake up again, I may forget that those letters even exist.