Do you want to know why I love the sky? Because when the pastels of the sunsets and sunrises use him as a canvas to melt your heart , he experiences the dreadful aches of the separation of the two worlds. And when the lightening slits his throat and cuts through his cyan , he yelps with pain and watches the manifestation of his own torture.He gets high on oxygen and causes the birds to get higher with him. He lets himself be polluted by all the filth humans dawned upon themselves and is unaware of overdosing himself to death. In fact , he dug holes in himself to take away the pains of the land he forms roof of. He just stays there , keenly watching the amusing human activities for years and millineas. It has been through a lot. It bathed in clouds of vermilion smokes and tears of blood over the mourn of the brutality human caused to its own race and witnessed the 'celebration' of the era when racism became a cult and watched the crimson of the flesh besmear the face of the Earth.Sure it all scarred him for some time but when things got better , he learned to smile again.Because to the sky , the stars and the clouds , the moon and the sun all had always belonged to him and together they sailed through the oceans of hideous memories of mourn. He has woven the Earth's history in a very neat pattern on the threads of his skyline and horizons. Sometimes he lets go and gets ditzy with the winds like a teenage boy looking for an escape in an unholy bar. At night he let's the blue neighbourhood die to let the dark human souls feel less lonely in the presence of a rather blanker sky of serenity. While the humans set fire to his limbs , his eyes redden in fear and he searches for shelter.The trauma of the fireworks aches till the next three weeks.But not all human ways of celebration scare him , he feels like a child at the sight of strange air filled bubbles that catch him by surprise or lanterns soaring higher to reach it. He feels the pangs of separation between the sun and the moon when the day/night shift takes place and they watch eachother from the windows of their cellars , one emerging , the other drowning.But he's ready for the consequences.He bears with the rage of the sun when it blasts sweltering heat all over , drenching everything in his protest against the Nature's law of rifting him from the moon.But he does not forget to appreciate how the moon feels the sun is too good for her darks and changes her appearance all year round to keep up with the granduer of sun's grace , trying to find that perfect side of hers to fit him well.His nights are made all melancholy in the company of stars when the clock strucks 3:00 a.m. and they cannot stop talking about life here and around.And how his eyes glisten with humble pride when he is refered as a beacon of hope in a world full of dead dreams. And sometimes , when he gets lonely despite being a part of a world of galaxies , he cries. Soft drizzles splattering the rooftops.And when he feels stronger again , he wipes away the tears with sniffs of gentle breezes tickiling him all over.But sometimes , the pain is beyond control and without realizing he floods what had to be protected.He sometimes gets sick too and coughs what humans call 'snowflakes' and watches their delicate selves shred to nothing when summer arives to rule over.The sky feels empty sometimes and yearns to fall atop the Earth or pull her up on his throne and aches for the day when the sky will join his long neglected and least cared for partener , the Earth. The sky is deeper than it looks .
