You remain a captive till date in my creations. Every creation of mine has a shade of you in it.
You walked into my life and colored my white sheets of paper with shades that never meant anything to me till then. You colored them with hues, you colored me with them.
I fell in love with you. The first shade of love colored the white paper. I was in love with you but you never knew of that love. Unknown to the love that beckoned to you, you colored my paper with your hue. I wrote poetries on the first blossom for you. I was in love with you. I was in love with the feeling of being in love with you.
The season changed.It was the season of love. We were together in love. You and I, together. Together we colored those sheets of paper with the color of love. I wrote stories of our love. I poured my dreams for us on paper. You were everything to me.
The day we were declared man and wife, I wrote a poetry on true love for you. You kept the writer in me alive. Your love kept the flame in me lighted, for eternity.
Our first home, that little room in the city and the days we spent on the terrace watching stars, the comfort I felt in your arms; those priceless moments of love. Not once did the pen cease to write about you. I was in euphoria. My heart danced to the tunes of your love.
The world witnessed the rise of a writer but it was a lover living her dream; weaving words to express her ecstasy and creating channels to share her joy. Years passed by soon and slowly the hues that once spread joy on my sheets of paper changed its mood. I saw the sudden change in color and trust me; I detested this shade that now took over my sheet of white.
Our new home was quiet a classy place but how I missed the dingy apartment that housed our love. We did spend time together but the comfort seemed to have lost its way to our new home. We had everything yet we lacked a lot. We were still the same but we had lost ourselves. You were now turning into somebody whom I failed to recognize; somebody, I did not want to recognize. You were going to a faraway land, a land alien to me; a land to which I never belonged. Not once did you look back at the ruins you left behind. You failed to see me watch my life settle in mess. Even then, my pen ceased to stop; it wrote tales straight from my heart.
You graduated at an accelerated speed in me. Emotions changed, equations changed, seasons changed, you changed and so did we. It has been over fifteen years since we separated even then; I remain trapped at the border between this world of mine and that of yours. I wait the day you will walk back to that point of separation and walk along with me back to our world. Till then, you remain alive in my creations. . My pen ceases to stop. You continue to inspire me though I mean nothing to you. You remain a captive in my sonnets, poetries and tales. You remain alive on my white sheets of paper. Our moments of love color those sheets of white with hues of memories.
You remain a captive till date in my creations. Every creation of mine has a shade of you in it.You can never die till I breathe my last. You remain alive till that last breath of mine.
Copyrights @ 2016, Elsa Thomas.