On Whispers

The wind blows in my ear whispering slowly all the memories that within it holds, the crying daughter over the abusive father, the Bride kissing the unfaithful groom, two parents holding their murdered child, two lovers parting ways, and then one last but valuable thing, heaven, a moment, in which two people join together and their care for the rest of the World is inexistent, for their only World is each other.