A gist of yesterday dissolving in my today

Questions and questions, some unanswered and some left unquestioned itself! Every heart has an emotion and every eye a motion – yet here I stand today as some solicit poetry scribbled on a spoonful of sand, destined to mingle away into nothingness, when night casts her shadow of obscurity and murk. They say, there lies a thin line between the reality and the fantasy… once erased you never know where you lie. That is, as per my notions, you get yourself mingling up your dreams and reality, emphasizing on dreams, ignoring the real as well as leaving dreams as dreams and not molding it into actions.
Numb and lost am I now… Perhaps I’ve never questioned, perhaps never pondered over it as well, yet I plunge myself into the essence of this placid early spring day and enquire of my dreams.
Yes, I've dreamt. I've dreamt and lived my dreams, dreamt and left them as mere dreams also! It's only when I won that I smiled, least it were tears of grief, exhausted in any trivial loss resulting in a significant loss of sangfroid. Well aware am I that these beads and crystal clear pearls of turbulent emotions no mirth for tomorrow, rather deepen the wounds of today; yet any trivial failure compels me to cry my heart out in some corner of room, in an attempt to blow away the murk in a corner of my heart. It's definitely easy to smile amidst mirth, never grief... just as it's easy to spread your wings and fly along with the gusts of wind, rather than against them.
Still then, live... live to the fullest... live for the today in hand, live to see a smiling tomorrow, not to regret and brood over the dead past. 'Forget the past for the past is dead'. This is something whose significance I am least aware of, allow me to rephrase, I am reluctant make myself aware of. Don't they forget that people live for certain fragments that the past has buried with the flow of time, certain memories of it that don't pose but essentially are the exalter of life? As for the unpleasant moments, forgetting would be a lame option. Let us give ourselves a chance to trust again, relive the wrong times yet without the wrong, and restore our fading confidence over matters that didn't deem it essential to allow our emotions to consider it.
After all, that's supposed to be life, an unpaved circle – it starts from a point, saunters away, but dissolves into its beginning, which is the ultimatum. So, probably, the petals of love and wrath shattered within are each of the same demeanor, that's beginning to end in the same point and enclosing a whole lot of unfathomable intensified emotions, in the process. At times, life seems like some enigmatic race amidst forbidden fantasies. Well, perhaps this enigma is life – the most emphatic word in the nothingness of space.