Letters

I still carry those dusky bundle of papers on which you used to write your heart out and shower your immense thoughts and feelings for me through the nib of your pen, those heartfelt, fragile pieces which possessed the smells of your loyalty, allegiance and impregnable vows you made.

Ah! It still has an overwhelming effect. In a different manner though. All the notions I had are shattered now. That pile now seems to shout like a helpless kid who is drowning in the ocean of deception, the damsel in distress who seems to narrate the stories of betrayal and chicanery and a poor young atrocious lady who has been abandoned by the one whom she dearly loved. 

I still carry your letters which were meant for me but not anymore in your perspective. You moved on with the same task of writing your heart out for someone else but I....., I still carry your those letters which were meant for me once!