Beautiful flowing streams gurgurling in pureness and liveliness-freezes or dries.
Everything that is an interest of peace, goodness, content gets taken away by this cruel entity called time-it's both the hero and villain too.
Recalling a small story-a man with curiosity once asked god disguise in human-"Oh by through your senior and profound intelligence tell me, tell something that brings me happiness and sense of misery both at the same time." The man of intelligence but in his modest self smiled and said "This time shall to pass soon." He calmly kept his good answer to the apparently a tricky question which looked to him even smaller than tickle to his brain. The man of curiosity had surprised eyes but smiled in his sweet defeat. He nodded as in fascination and admiration too for the answer was a great companion to his question.
This time shall too pass soon-
When you gaze at the candle been burning bright, providing you warmth and you realize this warm time shall pass and candle will melt followed by haunts of chilly dark, it gives you a sense of misery. But then you'd realize that even that time shall pass soon and darkness will be defeated by rise of sun. The work of time is an attribute to mystery.
Time passes irreproachably, that Jungkook wants to stop, but oh to his poor mere kind.
He had his time when someone lit a glittery candle in his abandoned manor. He had a time when his lips would humm a mirthful melody emitting straight out of the heart. But the time passed, leaving the memories and ablazing yearn in his heart. His self turned back to the eerie cold haunted house that had ghosts of bereaving dancing in those empty halls. His heart forgot to sing anymore. Everything felt like a stream that stopped flowing and a flowless stream turns stale, becomes a muddy water.
In amongst of his muddy water, there was a reminder of lotus that bloomed in his life which got him all chaotic in his inside-to meet him, hold him, kiss him and write poems for his beauty, falling in love more.
He conquered the territory of that cottage like a burglar, injuring his arms by the shards of glasses fit on walls for safety. He pass through the garden where that tree stood. Fillial it was for him, he spat curses very well pretending that the tree is taking it all anger like a human. He punched the trunk as if it would yell out in pain. Jungkook's already bruised knuckles throbbed more in pain for his stupidious acts out of his angry mind. He swore if this was to be a human, he would have stabbed him happy. "Son of bitch." he glared and pass walked it. If anybody saw Jeon holding grudge against a tree, he would be on judge of mentally ill man.
Anyways Jungkook knew his angel would be here, in his mother's lovely cozy cottage. A two story build that looked so warm, where you could imagine a family eating together with hearty chats and laughs.
He didn't care to knock, just kicked the wooden door open. Thud! He walked in and encountered another big bitterness. His desperate eyes turning into fiery. It was Seokjin's uncle, who stood with horror after springing from the sofa, newspaper once in his hand, flying away.
Judging Jeon's looks, uncle could never understand if this man holds any spite against him or he happens to be that way to everyone but Seokjin. He asked this to himself for the scary face Jungkook showed and teeth he bares or if this man is breed of any wild wolf. Whatever it was, uncle turned sangfroid-heedful around him.
"What are you doing here, Jungkook?" he asked in calmest tone because he didn't want to show that he is bit of unsettled by dark eyes studded on Jungkook's face and theatric sudden appearance of him who was once in time the most awaited person.
"Where is he?" Jungkook didn't care uncle's silly question, ignoring it.
Seokjin's uncle sighed and picked up those scattered papers. "I'm afraid he doesn't want to see you anymore. He even denied me to reach to you at your house, but ignoring him I came for you to your house only to see you were never there. Mr Jeon Where were you all these days?" uncle had a faint scowl but lost it and breathed out, just staring at that poor man as all of his limbs numbed down any mettle to push this tattooed man or least beg him to go away and never show his face, as he wasn't needed here for any reason now. He couldn't refuse this man, not when he saw now a hint of hurt on that once a scary demeanor. His sort of gang-leader like posture stumbling.
