Tell Me No More of Enchanted Days

A kick once more. and the broom moves higher, the enemy right behind me, I surge further, faster and she follows, wanting to catch up. I mustn't let her, she wants what I have, and if she touches me, I'll dissolve in mid air, and she'll be me. It's a fight till the end, till one of us gives in, and I know it well enough now. Two brown specks in the sky, hair flying as clouds pass us by, The only way to get away is to tire her, so I keep pulling speed, my legs hurt as I move upwards where the clouds weaken and the air dies a little with every vertical feet, giving way to only blue, where there are no birds, only the sound of the wind, as I cut through it. She is on my track, trying desperately to catch up. Days and nights pass, continents disappear under us My body cries for rest, but it is unwilling to give up its identity, the one she so badly desires, her heart cold and grey over centuries of power, mine red and warm, overflowing with blood. Finally, over London, I lo

The past is gone. Like memories hidden in hair, whisked away in a day. And clear, bright skies now. The tree that was barren a month back is filled with green, pregnant with fruit. I always associate summer with the smell of mango trees and grass, and the buzzing of insects. I've seen myself change a million times. And change is always the best medicine. For boredom, for heartbreak, for inspiration, for dreams. I sometimes think it's amazing what we do, think, or feel is always already symblolized in Nature. Nature can't express itself in words, so we tend to be blind to it. The whispering in the wind, the tedious crawling of ants, the love struck mingling of branches, the gentle wag of a puppy... I'm embracing change, even if it means to forego familiarity. I know those who are stuck in time, for years and years. And life is passing by. When I think of how many years have already passed, it still comes as a surprise. I always feel time is breathing heavily down my neck