A Book of Soul For the Heartwarmer

One individual called "she" stepped into the sheets of a life story Sheets that used to be occupied She walked back and stopped at a chapter which tell the story of an obsolete chamber A space which stands for behalf of the memory and wounds A diorama played by shadow A story with no beginning nor end They've been there with decent backgrounds and decent light spectrum but called gray The view was frozen, the chatter was muted, and that feels fell into the melancholy Those with the outstretched hands which too high to be reached Those with the self existence but too blind to be seen They abandoned as a figure of reserves without knowing the essence of a solace And that individual creature went on her way back to the labyrinth of time This time someone seized by the story of a root baste Those roots were heart in shape and the hue carved a warmth, but once howled a bitterness This chapter tells the story of a lush tree with the fruit of love Fruits that contain the complexity of love, passion and a place to berth And the fruit of love revealed its story to someone Those who hide behind their false mannerism had carved their name on her shoulder Those who have offered their hearts and bent on their knees Those who play fire in a lust, fell into a seek But the love that she wants still unable to cover the part of this story From the fruit of love to the sheet's of light This chapter tells the story of an old house with extensive bed of flowers This house represented the aesthetics, peace and harmony A house which brings relief, spaciousness and joy In that house she knelt, release all her mess To the house the journey was anchored In every sketches that have been through None could live without the presence of others too Obsolete chamber, lush love tree, beautiful bed flowered old house Those who were involved in each story of the bulkhead of life Those who were crawling along and came from different angles of infinity Those who were instantly filled the pieces of shoot and became the shoot They are the perfect gift for the imperfect souls Not as a complement nor as a reserves Yet as the major part of the heartwarming life story