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It is a great deal to fight while despising war, to accept losing everything while still preferring happiness, to face destruction while cherishing the idea of a higher civilization.
For all those landscapes, those flowers and those plowed fields, the oldest of lands, show you every spring that there are things you cannot choke in blood.
And despite the clamors and the violence, we tried to preserve in our hearts the memory of a happy sea, of a remembered hill, the smile of a beloved face.
And once the ripples still and the water returns to its unwavering calm, even the pebble that broke its surface will be forgotten. And the world will go on.
I was lost in the moments I decided to keep. To be awake in a dreamless sleep. And in that place between dream and sleep, I planted some more things I would like to keep.
It was her eyes. Soft, meadow-shade eyes with frostbitten edges. Every glance casually held gossamer infinity. Every stare revealed inky black abyss with a hint of divinity.
With ravenous passion and reckless ambition he forged his thoughts into words, obsessed with the notion that dying would not be the last thing he would do.
He gave up. No hint of ember behind his eyes nor life in his breath. He snipped the last, overstretched strand of hope, and nicked the strand of life by mistake. He did it with his hands.
Adventures kept hidden, words kept silent. You became my greatest secret. And when you left, no one knew the source of the pain I felt. No one knew you existed, except my writhing heart.
I realized the world around me was fragmented and broken... I had to be gentle enough not to scrape against the jagged pieces. I would not be cut today.
That's what really broke me, she was better than any fantasy I could hope to imagine. I've spent my life creating, yet she was pristine the likes of which I could never fashion.
She was exactly right and wrong in the perfect sort of way. This kiss would be the first of many, she was the type of girl I would desperately fight for to stay.
It was the end for something. It was the beginning for another. But in reality it just fell in the middle. In that confusing moment of time between my birth and my death.
I always thought time was the most valuable currency, but I realized the people we spent our time on and loved us back, that love held even more meaning to me.
I was burdened with an ever-growing heart on the verge of decay. To save myself, I had to give many pieces of my love away. I hope I can give it all to someone, someday.
It was a slow fall, through warm experiences and good laughs. It didn't even feel like love until I got to the end. Even then, it was not the hard surface of rock, but the scorching embrace of more.
I wanted to know every story behind the scars on her curves. I wanted to decipher the whispers hidden beneath her every breath. I wanted to unravel her with my hands.
They surrounded me, bare me. Their fingers like tentacles and their desires like knives. Their fingers traced my secrets and their desires carved my skin.
Inside, my soul is curled tightly bearing the burden of massive sins from another life. And my eyes look far at the hell around me... a sharp grin tugs at the corner of my lips.
And in my novels I live many lives. Substitutes of spontaneity to replace a dreary reality. How I live for those inky black words and kaleidoscope colored experiences.
I was the wings that kept her aloft, while the churning sea of reality nipped at her feet. I kept her from drowning, but I still felt bad, that her toes had to experience such dreadful cold.
Everyone is their own, though they are so alone. They all sit on their imagined thrones, made only of their own bones. Ego and pride make exquisite delusional cushions.
I don't know anymore, whether it's a curse or a blessing to see the beauty in the ugly. Growing up simply and getting old complexly. I now see reason behind sin, and love behind pain.