The letter of life to the letter of death

Angry?

I though, did not give up on you. You gave up on me.

I understand your emptiness, I could feel the distance between your body and soul - and you are right, the world can be joyless, devoid of true art, where love hurts, where our beliefs are coloured and where our identity is our calling card. You dismiss all that - as you say you had problems with yourself.

You are right, and you believed that you had all the reason to give up on me.

But then, if you bear with me for moment and think, what feeling or emotion in this world is not transitory? Night will give way to dawn - unless, you embrace darkness, unless you stand in the hell of sorrow and depression and look for light at your feet. The dawn though will still always come, even if it comes with a final "good morning" from you.

And even if that doesn't make you sad, it does make me sad. It is not that you did not understand the world, maybe you did - yet you only had a singular perception to the world you lived in. The world is limitless, as the science you loved.

You never complained that life was not fair to you, you never asked for your share from life. And yet, I shall tell you the only share ever imparted to any being. You breathe. You make the rest. You wanted to make a life for yourself, fly in the open sky and yet you ended like the bird of Jatinga. Men it is said don't stumble over mountains but over pebbles, and maybe you had many pebbles in your path. And yet - pebbles they were, and neither pebbles nor mountains in the path of men are fatal. Thousands of people lose the battle each year to despair. I lose the battle with them.

Forget the world and its trapping, if there is no joy or glory in life, I am loathed to grant that to my adversary who knocks on the door of misery and illness. I find it impossible to condone or glorify your action. You are my loss. You are your loss.

Yours always,

Life