I could only love to an extent. I am a dreamer, but my dreams don't go as far as Neverland. They don't go as deep as the Mariana Trench. Nor could ever fly as high as Whooper swans. I could only offer as much as I can.
But I am sure of one thing - you'll never experience being scarce of romance. Because when I love, I pour everything I have and give everything I can, even if it means that I have to lose so much and end up with nothing at all. But maybe that's natural. It's only natural to give so much and lose that much. Perhaps because I'm human that it became my nature to submit everything and then be deprived of it all at once.
And I am sure that I can only love to an extent. And death comes when the limit is surpassed. How hastily it presents oneself!
Rebirthfollows, but the scars remain - just as reincarnations of souls in new bodies.Because loving to an extent is as treacherous as that. It's always theprecariousness of the heart and the mind.
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The Brain is Never at Rest
PoetryHi. This is a collection of the pieces I wrote for the past years. If some of these sounded or looked familiar, it's because I've posted them in another account I used to go by. Thank you for taking the time to read my work! I hope you'll have a fu...
