The Feeling of Love

You Stand Alone, in the humid place. A droplet of sweat runs down your brow... And suddenly the cool breeze runs across the meadow combing through your hair... a Sweet Scent it carries... It smooches your face...You are thankful, you are obliged. Although you don’t remember, when it came and how it died...

But for the breeze, I know, she traveled many miles... just to touch you, to feel you... now she takes along your fragrance, wherever she goes... bubbling with glee and happiness of having met you... She tells every new face she meets, that she touched you... and your scent to her bosom she keeps...

She does know, that she'll soon have to die... but she doesn't regret; for she holds you close, as she loved you the most... And every time she takes a new form, she'll come to meet you, as the wind, the rain or the froth... She'll touch you, love you and will bury herself dead, knowing that her only purpose of life was ... You ...