Losing My Way

With the gun pointed at my chest/ what use can words be?/ Cold, dead eyes glaring at me/ show no pity will come my way./// No tragic tale could move this man/ nor any jest lighten his soul./ I await with only feeble sighs/ It's the the end of all my dreams./// I recall a wrong turn long ago/ from where I was once loved/ to a place where I'm unnown/ trapped in the shadow/ of the light that no one/ can ever claim to have seen.///

Three weeks without a post...I am not proud of that. It concerns me that I don't express myself like I once did, but I read a book that I loved so much that I had to write about it, even if no one will see my review. It is called And The Mountains Echoed by Khaled Hosseini, and I was awed. The scope of the story, its many shifts in direction and the sentiment that touches the soul without resorting to manipulating the reader's emotions shows that Hosseini is a master. Just writing about it brings it back to me: the love of the brother and sister who are separated at a young age, only to be reunited 60 years later when neither can remember, the brother who never forgot until old age damaged his memories and the sister who was too young to recall the love they had. That was the main gist of the novel, yet there was so much more, and it all fit together, a puzzle stretching from Afghanistan to Paris and to California. The only reason I grabbed it was because it had large print