A man who sits by the window of his abode is watching outside. The tiny streak of light coming from the sky is the only reflection that brightens up inside the house. The weather has become gloomy and the tweets of the bird are the only melody that echoes in the air.

The rustic place where the man has been staying is silent. The wind blow of the rainy season has become so cold. The rustling of leaves while it gracefully glides in the air is swaying. The soul of that man speaks to his mind while he lingers above the sky pensively.

The day is turning to be twilight and is going to be over again. Everybody is on their way home even the flying flocks of birds up high. It’s indeed an undying constant cycle of life. It’s about time for that man to close his window and take some rest while waiting for a new tomorrow to come again.


~ by sherwinportillo on August 8, 2012.

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