A Handshake With Loneliness

The darkness was his home. He lived in a place which was always under the curtains. He was the only one there. Just walking the dark and barren lands, sometimes sitting down on a fallen tree trunk. There were times when he sobbed and the winds tried to console him, there were times when he laughed like a maniac without any specific reason and the winds tenderly stroked his hair.

He would write words coming out of his heart on dead leaves and throw the leaves away with the winds blowing them to some place he didn't know.

He had somehow found a home in the darkness. Like an unknown face in the darkness had handshaken with his loneliness.

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