A Word Faded Away

After inscribing a long forgotten word “Romance” in the sky on the other side of the setting sun and turning my face to the field where I walk through. A little remaining daylight beckons me, as if loath, I am leaving. When I was a lad the word “Romance” was the path I walked between the leaves of a book, woven with beautiful love stories, because everything looked spectacular and splendid as a rainbow, hung in the boundless blue sky, to me at that time. I picked up a word “Sentiment” I accidentally kicked while walking on the path and looked into this fascinating new word “Sentiment” my eyes smarted from its depth of color of like the bottomless sea. When the days of youth was my everything the word “Romance” was replaced by harsh and extreme words: new orders, reformation, revolution, resistance, fight, and these rebellious words aroused my passion, though I was too young to be a member of established society and didn’t know the reality of life. As I grew older my sensitivity declined surrounded by abundant new words and in these overflowing words the word “Romance” lost its brilliance and gradually faded away. I became a spiritless snob who was acquainted with a colorless word “Reality.” Under the disguised words such as compromise, endurance, I became subservient accustomed to accept and suffer every humanly pain and problem without resistance. I crossed countless rivers and heaps of mountains at times running while gasping, on other times chased by the ceasless time. I came to middle age’s hilltop on the passage of this life’s journey. I looked into a mirror because I had a moment of pause before stepping down hill and surprised by own image reflecting in the mirror, disappointed by an ill-favored man who was deprived of a reason to exist as a man. Nonetheless, while staring at a disfigured my own image on the way of never repeating life’s circle I felt pity on myself and in the middle of this feeling of desperation I recalled the word “Romance” –I wonder how to define this feeling, obsession of or pathos mixed with bygone days’ monotonous memory? And that’s why I inscribed the word “Romance” before my blurry eyes in the sky on the other side of the setting sun to feel it with my young day’s sensation, and that’s why dye the gray sky with red to enjoy the color with my young day’s emotion, at least, for a while.