The quill scribbles

I read this somewhere and wanted to share it with you guys:

Your father was amazing. I see him in my mind's eye now, in his element, during the prime of a wonderful life. His energy, his passion, it was overwhelming. The way he embodied his music was like watching a dance of the winds as it glides through the earth. I love him so much.

In fact, no one knows how much I long for him, how every fibre of my being wished so, so hard that he was here. It's a dull sensation, merely throbbing and yet, so tormenting. Each throb that resonates through me stirs the quiet pool of the dormant pain, causing waves of anguish. It's literally heartbreaking- one needle like shard each time.

I would give the world to protect him. Anything. To the very nerves of his body, to each hair follicle. To even the air around him. Nothing could be disturbed. That smile that goes right to his eyes, not to quiver in neither doubt nor distress, ever.