III.
Hard to believe that this cruel, love-blind world gave him such a cold shoulder.
Faithful women, and "fraternal" acolytes took down his poor body from the gallows, to perform funeral rites. Like, while he was alive, they were there to dress his self-fighting wounds. People even claim to still have his x-rays, from hospital visits.
But what about the really heartless ones, who ravaged his body and mind? Such bully love, this ferocious, although generic, hunger for his misguided flesh!
And why didn't they take time to braid his hair instead. Why didn't they hold up his hand as a jewel, to kiss it devoutly, AFTER knowing him?
Was he such a handful? Or did the world simply run out of good men?
Possibly, only the greatness of a God could comprehend, embrace and master his wildly rebellious nature.
Maybe Rozz had in himself too much of a Lucifer, although he finally saw himself as a Prodigal Son.
For all we know, a son he had wanted to be, and we can guess, in his beardless days, a bride, too.
It's more than heartbreaking that nobody, but nobody, could be the one to choose and drape that sacred veil on his dear head...
YOU ARE READING
A Story of Love, for Rozz Williams
FanfictionYouth feels immortal, so it easily befriends Death. But Youth dies inside a million times. Maturity thinks and remembers, crying ugly tears. Written on November 6, on Rozz Williams's birthday. About a bright, bright candle which burned at both...
