༺Masterpiece༻

VI :: Disquietude

"Standing at the banks
Of love and venom;
I think of you,
O' hey Anam Cara.
At the end of the disparities,
Over the translucent horizon;
You're the hole in my heart.

Anxiety is pretty different
Than my trepidation,
It feels empty
When you're my hollow melody.
I am incomplete,
Not because you ain't holding me,
But because I can't touch you
Anymore. No more.

You watch the fire that
You started in me,
And I bonded with that burn,
Because the fire that
You started in me
Was never thought of,
Never put off."

⊱ ───ஓ๑♡๑ஓ ─── ⊰

"What's it love?" A mother's dedication and love is immeasurable in words. Carrying her child around and building it bit by bit, block by block; She creates a whole new entity, a whole new life.

Not just a human but all the females, all the producers on our earth work day and night and produce a new little one.

And a single scratch on her creation aches her like her own burn. But what burns a mother more is her child regretting to be born. Sometimes, maybe it is for the mother that the offspring dies but when it ain't the case, it kills the mother before the offspring can even imagine to continue.

It was the same for the petite woman in her early thirties that held a youthful maiden in her arms. She knew the reason of her darling dreamer's tears. But how may she tell her that she's still waiting for the person to return and believes he will come back?

"Eomma..." The maiden's blooming face always sketched a beautiful portrait of her mother's love, a sketch that she drew day and night past.

"Neh? Did they hurt you?" Kissing the pain away, she pulled her daughter closer to her heart and contemplated the long lost hug she wished she could have again.

"Eomma, I don't like Appa!"

"Hush! Don't say that." Laying her slender finger on her daughter's lip, she felt the large cavity, her sempiternal lacuna howling inside her.

"Why doesn't he come back?" She brushed her daughter's hair with the tip of her finger and lowly murmured a year long promise she had been keeping even when it was already past a few years. Her eyes scanned the maiden's sculpture just how she would look at him and then she finally uttered another fake assurance, she didn't believe herself.

"Didn't I tell you Appa is a warrior? He's in the military front, keeping an eye on the border lines for you and me, and also your friends. Tell them how brave your Appa is." She whispered in the child's ears.

"You always tell that." The child complained.

"Don't cry, love. Aren't you my Anam Cara?" She hugged her 6 year old again.

"Okay... If you say."

"Yes, yes my love."

"But even Somin's dad works in the military. He always comes home once a year. Why can't Appa do it too? Does he not love me?"

"He loves you, dear. He loves you. He cherishes you more than you know. He just can't come home. He's very busy."

"Why is he so busy?"