...And now this feeling. To think that I, who am but a single rain drop in the desert sun, could live eternally inside a cave of ice. Though ice does come from water, when applied the correct temperature has been and I, a raindrop, water being myself, oh! how different we both be.
To be, and stop being one who shadows does love with all thy can, a someone who something tries to be. ‘Tis hypocrisy isn’t it? To be someone who something tries to be and not himself. Oh! What hypocrites! And to think that in this world we live this way. We being not me, included, any more, but once before I would have been.
Hypocrisy now is a way of life but in the past a choice, indeed, it was. A path that once did split we now walk without a will. A will owned now, not by us but, by society. A will that exist now for no purpose, but the purpose of reminding us of our social slavery.
Is this slavery a must? Is this slavery a must, I ask and if it be not a must, Is it possible to walk away? Or are we betrayed by our own selfish will and tung-tied are we left? Tung-tied by such a royal riddle written and said before so many times that even memorized, tung-tide it doth still leave us.
Tung-tide, now a mute, how can a man express his love?! Oh! Romeo how I admire you! To dispose of such filling feelings in such an honorable manner. To let go of your tung and let know to the loved the feelings of the lover. How must it be carried out? Do words posses the power? And if in words the secret key may indeed lie, what must be done to make it rise from where it lays? Must words be spoken, written, or directed indirectly towards the mind? Oh! What must I do?!
Confused by a stormy night and a sky so dark and never clear. Not even the light of the North Star I see leaving me lost at sea. No sight, no touch, no smell. How can I live? Neither a taste, nor the sound of grace. Disgraced now, what can I give?!
A thought! A thought! Oh! God! A thought! My Lord, what does this mean? May it mean my salvation, God? Is it Lady Love that has come for me?
No comments:
Post a Comment