Zakhalya Stories

"I'm listening to the first song you wrote for me as I'm writing this. But sadly, your song did not give me happy tears anymore. It no longer sounded like the harmony of the wind brushing my skin. It now sounded . . . like a feeling of leaving tiny slivers of heaven someplace, knowing that I can never come back by any extension - even if I wanted to . . . even if I never wanted to leave in the first place." Somewhere along the horizon of the bliss I vowed to experience with her forever, traces of our past hopes ran back to me, a hazy smile broke out, and a fateful romance came to a screeching halt - all are remnants of my lover, taking place under the Cimmerian shades.