“I will not wither, since you have plague to be mine.

But I cannot hold, the longing to which I’ll love to have.

Beyond our youth, I wish we can spend another company in unison.

To spend our seconds, minute, and hours.

To indulge each other happiness, grief, and anger.

However, I am all too aware of our current state.

Whether our heart shall blossom within this frozen valley.

I am yours,

You are mine.

I have no say but to devote my life to yours.

You may love for another to leave me wither.

But the very least.

Allow me to act my part.

Allow me to bear the fruits.

Allow me to hear your words.

Allow me to nurse you as you have done to me.

[ Please don’t lie to me. ]

You took my hand.

Therefore, I shall let you be mine.

Let’s live fruitfully.

Even if this bond is not called Love. “

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Original: 07/29/2015

ReWrite: September 14 2018

Note: I wrote this three years ago. It was from a story I’ve heard that inspire me to write this. The theme was of a woman who lived in the past. I believe it was during the medieval time. She made me think of how society has changed… And how hard it must’ve been for a woman… To live in that society. Yet it also made me think of arranged marriage. It saddens me at the time… And it still does when I think of it…

Thank you for reading/visiting. May you have a lovely day.

Writer: Kathleen K. + Alias: WallowLeaf