June 22, 2007

  • I’m
    witnessing a drama.
    Drama.
    The
    beauty of interconnected souls, inadvertently ruining the impossible fathom of
    love.
    Peaks
    and valleys, increasingly bipolar
    as
    the remains of the heart float away.
    There
    is no hope.
    The
    protagonist has become the hunter
    Born
    without senses or sensation; heartless in perfect ignorance.
    The
    last remaining hero has been vanquished
    The
    one solitary warrior no longer holds the light of day.
    He
    has been wronged; left for dead without a Samaritan.
    Agony.
    Pain
    and sadness.
    How
    can such common words summarize the life of a champion?
    History
    is penned by the victor
    So
    why doesn’t virtue hold the pen while falsehood falls by the sword?
    My
    heart goes out to you.
    You,
    who invest in the drama I watched so many years ago.
    The
    greatest battles are won in the dark of night
    Yet
    evil patrols this very domain.
    If
    life was meant to exist as a paradox
    Then
    why do we desire for all to be right?
    Stop
    reading your part in this drama.
    For
    just like the greatest dramas ever penned,
    The
    end is still fiction.
    Just
    like the beginning.  

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