The Name Drifting In the Air Became a Handful of Ashes

Where should I go and find the name blown away in the air it became ashes a handful of memory. The name I long for, gone with the wind is the name branded in my heart. To carry all the way to the burial ground where, on one day, I shall go and lie my soul and body. The name which was sobbing in the rain drenched to the skin, the name drifted on the flow of water, the name wandered with the changing seasons. It may roam in the night sky; become a lonely star, though there is no allotted asterism for the name’s sake. The name shattered in the empty air and became a stardust, lives in my heart, it’s a handful of cold ashes that may be forgotten as it escapes from the hand.