The End.

Its December.

A time for holidays. A time for rest. A time for family.
A time for the mind to clear and attain clarity midst the calm.
A time for the heart to mend the tears and thorns that time has tolled.
A time to reflect on the past. To admit previous defeats. To come to terms with the mistakes made. History.
A time to review on the present. To clarify the state of mind, body and soul in time and age. Today.
A time to look past the future. To prepare for the adventure into the unknown. The journey.

As the chapter nears to a close, care must be taken to ensure that the last pages do not destroy the carving of time that the past pages has achieved. Not to compromise the beauty of the story. Not to disrupt the flow of time, space and existence.

Has our lives been purposeful? Honest?
What can we do better? Is better the right thing to do?

This immature soul does not know. Neither does he realize. But he still lives on. Regardless of the forces of nature and society that judges him.
It's not that he does not care, but it does not matter to him.

For what his life brings him is all his own. And only he can decide what he does onto himself, for himself, towards himself, towards others, for himself.

I love you dear. For whoever you may be, somehow a compelling force made me write this bit.
I shall see you. Whether or not life lets our paths cross, is another novel.

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