Dear secret keeper, In the world of masked emotions, you know the true identity of my hidden sentiments. (Read in caption) Beloved secret keeper, While fighting with the blades of winds, I discovered a face that was unfamiliarly familiar. You are with me from the time, when my problems were faster than the river currents, when the ink of my pen stopped working even after the ink level was straightly full. You know the rain in my bright sky, because you are the sun in my stormy days. You are the one to whom I can trust blindly and can share my palpable emotions without gulping it down. In the world of 'to get' and 'to give', you know the secret of my 'forget' and 'forgive'. It's all because you know the hidden tears behind chortle and the feeling of hiraeth in dark for light. Infact, you're sangfroid peace of my everyday war between intellect and heart, because you only know about the sunshine which rules my heart and moonlit which calms my mind. The mini library which you have owned it for my secrets, does it never get full? The way my long phrases get short, do you even have a solution for that? Ah! The one who hides my unsaid words never let me to hide her words; why? And to my question your answer says, " 'You' is my only secret." "All life carries a secret, a secret that holds a plot of an unsung poem, and the poem never rhymes with 'nodus tollens'."
