Day 02: Friday, 18.39 p.m.
Hydra was a friend I met during my winter.
He is what you would call - A ray of sunshine.
When I was so adamant about viewing life from a broken lens, he saw the broken lens as a vintage object of beauty: a piece that served its purpose. He smiled at everyone, saw the goodness in people, and never shied away from facing thorny times.
From his sunshine and Whale's warmth, my snow melted enough for a few blossoms to bloom. But me and hydra met each other halfway through our journey. While I began witnessing sunshine and blossoms, he began seeing twilight and withers.
Here's a glimpse of his Chronicle.
She was an enchantress who sang songs of Peril.
He was a naive sailor who drowned in her freckles.
She dragged him down to the depths of oblivion, while he meekly followed course. And in the deepest of darkness, where his rays died, she left him for a glistening Kraken. Only then, on the cold floors of the ocean, did he realize—he gave and gave, until there was nothing left.
In love, he lost.
In love, he broke.
In love, he died.
There was no one to blame but him. And that was the finale of a tragic play.
P.S. Thanks to Duck, who cast the words with me.
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