Heritage // bloodlines
A name will be saddled to you right from the cradle with ghosts of dead men.
As if your burden is not enough: With time, you become a pale shadow of a dead man’s soul, there is nothing true to you .
With time your meekness is seen as weakness, your boldness as a lie, nothing is ever yours.
For you are raised to live up to a name, a dead man’s name,
a dead man’s legacy.
The rain says no
‘being miles apart from you feels like a wall of wind’ he said He could feel the water pouring from the sky, creeping towards him. A few seconds of sprinkles, shooting side ways on the wind before the down pour would arrive.
‘the sky feels unbroken from left to right was like being inside a glass shaped box. Being under such big open skies but unable to leave, unable to run back to you,’
But then at times, the rains decided to leave our throats dry, our saliva was salty, our eyes balls were stuck out, with our arms up hoping and praying for the coming of the rains.
Our feet were dusty from the long walks that we took to the mountains. But then we also learnt that the rain says no to the prayers and he said no to us being together.