The swamp.

That with each taken breath was getting

blacker and danker and darker.

Her hopes mixed with miry water became


saline and murky and unsavoury.

Her eyes brimmed, looking for someone familiar . Her mouth gasping, tasting her last words.
A sudden warm touch.
A man with a face so beautiful that it made her heart

beat and melt and dream.

He handed his hand in her hand to free her off . Their fingers

locked and interlaced and warm.

His eyes. They were more captivating than his beaming face. No one can escape the lure with which they weave the stairs to the dreamland.
That dreamland that had
lush green

trees and brooks and breezes.

Treading on that land i came across the gateway to his heart that was clasped with

wires and chains and rust.

She tired herself out unlocking that door with all the strength she could muster. But the door had iron locks and his heart had iron will.

She returned tangled to her swamp-land which was her

Fate and home and destiny.