Between Lines of Black and White

Note 2: An Afterthought with a Sad Discrepancy

The sky remains ever so habitual, and yet it speaks not of a plane that disappeared in the sky. An evanescent sight in the sky, outshadowed by the sun's glare, all that lingered was a silent aftermath.

Between the crowds of people that slither across the ground, why does the lingering afterimage of a sad sight only recall itself in all but myself. A silk white thread of plans, ideas and everyday routines stroke past my face let free from the people in front of me and yet i stand there motionless deep in my own thoughts.

I lived happy, but today, a sad chord struck me. Wondering if it would taint my day, all i had in mind was to pull this small discrepancy out of my system. Ah, to my surprise, it was a red thread attached to my heart; one in between whites. And that's when a familiar nostalgia got into me. I thought of it for a while but i could not find the words for it...

Would my prayers pierce the sky if i let go of this thread? Just like that plane from earlier?
Subtly, let go