It was silently pleasing, the warmth of the afternoon breeze, like a trench coat was, in olden times. And there I sat, oblivious to the hustle, almost slipping off the cold steel, pondering about what time would bring: this facade, would I still need it? And in time to come, would I still face the dilemmas I do today? My needs, would they be fulfilled? But it would certainly be unfair, if time was said to heal, but all that comes to past is nothing close to bliss. It won't wait and I pray my sanity be kept, that life would have me govern, that time comes nothing close to disrupt my sound mind. That the faces that I hold dear walk side by side, with each stride a reminder of what the past was like.