Time will translate this weakness into strength;
One day even the scars will be faded like old ink on old parchment;
The mind’s eye will soon see only blurred memories,
Memories relieved of their intensity, their stimulus,
Memories robbed of their sting, their power to hurt.
The sun will conquer every lonely, dark night;
The storm will die, the sky will clear.
Pain will tire of rearing its head, its fangs will not pierce, will not kill;
It’s strangling hold will break, it will be defeated in its purpose.
Broken hearts will mend, broken people will be made whole.
One day in time, we will be set free.
Contrary emotions are like sworn nemeses in the medieval epoch. They find a place that can cater well to their need of habitation and they proceed to pretentiously coexist peacefully and convincingly, but as time goes by, their true intent to overtake the kingdom and overthrow the ruler is made manifest, and that is precisely how the war of emotions kicks off.
Hatred enters the battlefield armed with his weapon of poison, hurt with his arrows, indifference with his shield and insult with its club. Only love enters unarmed, sans even a single means of defense.
In course of combat, love is wounded mortally- struck, impaled and blown, temporarily weakened and incapacitated, but not enough to give up the fight. It allows itself to be victimized until the assailing foes themselves grow weary of the fight and retreat in defeat.
Love, though wounded, triumphs in sweet victory and basks in humble glory. It restores and rejuvenates itself and the Kingdom of the Heart that was subject to much attrition.
Love neither is a fighter nor a killer, but a conqueror. It is its own weapon- a weapon that eliminates what breaks and restores what has been broken.
One thought that has been lingering in my mind like a nimbus cloud over the earth: Do some people walk into your life just to walk out of it so suddenly?
There comes a point in a close-knit relationship when the person becomes imperative to your existence- where he/she becomes an indispensable part of you, without which, your wholeness would just be a fantasy.
The thought of separation is as dismal as the deed itself.
Having to do without someone who means the world to you is like having to do without a limb. It’s a sort of emotional paralysis, goodness knows whether benign or chronic.
There are so many metaphorical comparisons that can be drawn.
For instance, it’s like a tramp with one single lucky cent that he holds dear. When it’s snatched from him, he sinks into despair, not knowing what to do in the near future.
And the worst part of it is when they have a choice between staying and leaving, and they settle on the latter. No matter the sincerity of your pleas to remain, they choose to go their own separate way.
That parting moment is like watching the only light in your life slowly recede until you can see it no longer and you’re abandoned in an impenetrable darkness.
Imagine a piece of your heart tearing itself away. That’s what it’ll feel like.
That’s the pain of separation.