Do you smell it? 

My father always used to tell me that no one has the audacity to stop you from dreaming, that it’s the emerald that god has bestowed every individual with. It makes you blossom with happiness, providing you with precious commodities like an every lasting smile, a reason to watch the sunset, a reason to pray.

That it was every individual’s right to admire it’s beauty.

But how was I supposed to know that it was a sin for me to even look at that emerald let alone touch it? I used to try it every single day, putting all my hopes and desires in place just to witness that thing that everyone else had the privilege of experiencing, everyone but me.

I used to get lost in this abyss of oblivion, a blank void of sheer futile efforts, where it felt as if god had put an invisible wall between me and my bliss, that if i dared try to cross it, it would release a gas that would stone my body for hours, and hours. To the point where i would have had given up even that sheer hope that had previously been ignited by that gorgeous glow that the emerald possessed.

Helpless, i am still waiting, making tangible yet futile efforts in paralysing myself, giving myself false hope that i will dream. One Day.

So, now you smell it? 

It’s the smell of my dreams burning away.