Letters to Juliet

Dear Juliet,

As I look back over my shoulder and contemplate on the time that has passed since we went our separate ways, I wonder if we have found what we set out to find. Did we not say life would be better if
I went north and you went south? In the course of your journey you have found religion and I have lost one, 
I have lived the world you left to the fullest and found no satisfaction, I only hope that you have fared better.

How much more different could our paths and lives be than this? But I have begun to realize that try as we may we could never fight the laws of nature. How welcoming for a change.

And I find it most striking that it is the same situation that drove us apart that has brought you back into my life. What is it about death that connects us? Could it be that we were meant to be together? 
My mind is forced to wonder, if it is a situation as such that has brought us back together, could it be that our next parting be when death do us part? Could our story finally be told as the rose that grew from concrete? I can only hope.

During our years apart, I held on to the greatest gift known to humanity ‘Hope’, but yet it gave me no relief, for in contrast like the dark side of the moon, I realized that hope as they say is the worst of all evils, for it prolongs the torment of man! What of our beautiful memories? I would ask myself. But as short lived as the happiness they bring, memories they always have such sad endings.

Every sad ending I have recently learned, starts with a new beginning. And what welcome timing than now that you decided to reveal yourself like the dawn of a moonless night.

Juliet, our story has but yet again just begun to unfold, and it is with unrivaled enthusiasm and promise that look towards tomorrow and its kin.

Always,

The Premonition!

She comes to me in my dreams. Like a siren, softly humming my song, 

she lures me away from my insipid reality, to a world of sinful pleasures. Dare I say no?

No man could resist, no chain can hold back; though I have tried, they break like feeble clay. 

You have no face, no voice, no form to feel or touch, yet I fall helplessly in love. Why are you here? 

Never saying my name, I hear you ever so clearly. Walking gracefully naked, yet my eyes fail to see through the nakedness, like the spirits themselves were covering you. What do you want from me?

You shine bright in my dreams, but only come to me in the dark of the night. Who are you?