When the velvet fabric dissolves around the sky resonating the fact that its night , I walk to the window trying to trace the moon you once told me i look like but in doing so I feel exposed to the wild winds that tear me apart everytime I breathe , exposed to the crumpled pieces of paper that holds your name, I jotted down as I took a stroll along the memory lane but now that you have parted ways I don't feel hollow any more but rather amazed of how beautiful these scarred are, fascinated by the blood that rush out in the form of tears, tell me if it was the appearance that mattered why is the soul embraced in the sky while the body burned, buried beneath the ground ?