22

The inevitable air of change. Im 22 now. The cocoon of time interwoven happiness and despair has an air of mustiness. No longer capable of waiting for my life to happen, it begins, now. This shell cracked open, to face the crisp pristine air with guarded hopefulness. The quiver of expectation mingles with the ecstasy of aliveness. My phantasmagoric life must end, or it must begin. Who would accompany on this fresh beginning? Friends will come and they will go. Lovers too change like the fickle tender objects they are. The burst of passionate incandescent fireworks before it fades into the night. No. This path only i alone can embark. The searching of my happiness. Alone, hand in hand with my Lord.