What kind of love hurts the most? Why does it branch out to the
darkness and christen hate its brother?
Why is sinning for the reward of unadulterated affection evolving to be something to boast? When did love hunger, need, and crave for the pain to nurture?
Where had adoration and lust wandered that it bear nasty scars, wounded to its core, left its skin calloused?
Who proclaimed their love to reside from the bottom of their hearts, only to leave their partner plummeting down the gloomy abyss, oaths and vows all but a ruse?
Too many vindictive reasons are at hand for merely one to suffice, mankind merely loitering and fooling around, gambling and rolling their dice.
Flames of tenderness blunt and cloaked in ice, punishment and damnation in return for an abstract possession too lowly to be titled a prize.
Is this all there is to this vicious, addictive cycle? Will it be satisfactory enough in honour of all that life holds?
Or maybe it's better to avoid probing the tangible knowledge that nothing is sure and spare yourself the trouble, roam the world unscathed, not bearing the wounds that don't heal as fate unfolds.
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Just some thoughts.
YOU ARE READING
Just A Girl With A Just God
PoesíaLife................. There's no one way to explain it, but let me explain mine; I find it in Him.
