it was the most bitter yet touchy` dream I had on the 1st day of a year...

It was one weird dream for me. I can say it was close enough, so close til' I can feel the bitterness, the misery.., the deep sadness but the most of all...the glory of love.
So touchy I could tasted it, I was there..I know..
Once I kinda played the role..some of the parts...yet in the end it's like I'm inside the whole story. somehow the main role was me, myself.
somehow I was everyone around..the only thing I know is, I feel it. I feel them all. I feel the feeling..

There was the dream, and it went on and on til' the last
everytime I opened my eyes and went back to sleep, it started again through pages..


a woman of all feelings'
she had her family...she had her sense of ability
one night with her innocence, she'd almost could see things" throughout its real world..
she knew it, she senses it sometimes, then once she saw it
there the other families.. gathering around... tried to protect her
after all it was her choice to be seen..

her love for the one she longed for
with all those complicated things around them,
she waits.
she always waits for him only'

**the dream carried on.. led me to the next page..

all the beautiful moments they've had
all joy, tears and laughter.. happiness around the two
for some reason it was just, gone..
yet the grieves that she had
the hope that she always wished for
the warmness she would only shares with him
and there she was all..alone.. saddened and alone

years gone through..
days have passed by. . .
and there she was, with her baby child
people she met, old friend who put her to the circumstances'..
once she felt angry, once she felt the grieves..once she felt the sorrow..
deeply hurt by her feelings

** and there I was. again I feel the dream, and it went on the next page again.

I was standing into this room. . filled with memories, filled with pictures
and here I am. there she was.. hold with the same feeling.
the sacred-love she had always keep for her beloved-one
preparing for something
pictures. . . I see pictures.. I smell the old , weird, odd, I smell everything
thought it was a grave' of her love one,, yet it was an old..photos of his figure..

when all these stories were heading to the end, I was watching them. It was picture of the three of them.
she...the child..and a picture of the father"

This is the glory of love..
I can feel them..just like I feel it in my own story

There's nothing worth more..than the glory, the deeply, the pure feelings of Love'
-just like the woman in my dream had-