There was a soul. That learnt to stay mum. That compromised.
It learnt to not demand, but yet a voice within told it to ask. Yet, there always was a question – What is it that soul is scared to confront?
The question never had an answer for it till today.!
The answer was simple yet puzzle some and as scary as a dentist to a child.
The answer was – Little piled up Boxes.
Each box contained a part of soul.
Each contained a visitor that soul never wanted to visit again.
Yet each visitor was endear and the soul never wanted to throw the visitor away.
A box contained soul’s love.
A box contained soul’s fruit.
A box contained soul’s tree.
A box contained soul’s lamp.
A box contained soul’s shadow.
A box contained soul’s nerves.
But among all the most soul feared was the balance of the pile of boxes.
But did the soul get what it wanted?
Did the soul achieve what it achieved?
NO.
The fear of balance remained and continued only to win.
Should the damaged soul make it’s damage it’s strength?
Should the damage be allowed to win?
Or should the damage be rubbed again and again till the soul gets a spark from it.
chattychappado 
great one..ua own?
Hence i published it! Yes it is my own!