This heart of mine,
The heart that never fell in love
wonders how poets write sense full things about love, senselessly..
I ponder about its existence, i doubt it too.
But what explains the kindred feelings they all have?
Are they being taught to write so? is it a school to join? a school of love?
Who teaches them? The master of love? a greek eros? Perhaps cupid.
Well then, cupid must’ve been in love.
A totemic eros and no where near being a human.
Greek gods only love.
I’ve been told love is a rare phenomenon
So very diacritic,
If I want to be accurate, peculiar is the right word to describe it.
Love is acceptance
Love is redeeming
Oh friend I pondered lots about this statement
I came to this conclusion;
How can love be rare if it happens to everybody?
How can it be peculiar if it’s common?
And how can it ever be redeeming if it breaks people’s hearts?
Love surely doesn’t mend you,
People pine away from love
yet hanker for a lover?
Thus, it leaves no other logical explanation but;
Love breaks you.
To convert the mechanism of a word were as its letters have been forcefully organized next to one another to something deeper,
You would need nothing less than imagination.
Imagination is what your soul feeds on.
Inspiration is a gift from god.
Or an introverted visitor
That we all foresee,
i was lost..and lost..and lost.. once again lost.
until within me,
“the lost” became a habit.
i learned lots in the corner of darkness where “the lost” settled in.
i still looked.
and i waited
i waited until the fiends became an angel and the harmless lamb became a harmful wolf.
i waited until what used to be preys are now predators and what used to be predator’s are now the preys.
i waited, my friend.
yet, i had a glimmer of hope that kept the light in me and with me
but just like a torch it wont remain ignited for eternity
tell me what comes after waiting?
the memories of you
will and shall always be retrieved
they shall always stay as vivid as a stone loach spotted by a fisherman.
They say there is a genius that resides within you.
They also say there is a desperate saboteur within you, and an ego that hungers for praising.
They also say that you’re a different individual. You’re not a genius but a genius dwells in you. Don’t fight yourself but fight the saboteur that is part of you. Love yourself enough to respect it, but practice radical humility on yourself and do not credit your ego.
Your genius, lurking saboteur and ego are shattered souls that are shallowly buried somewhere in the abyss of your primary soul.
Pondering about such a dilemma makes you think why would a one fight back its own soul?
Why would I fight back my own soul?
They also answered this question. To be a better you. Fight your soul to declare the great potential you possess, which was uplifted by spiritual and self-improving books that claims the guarantee of yourself conversion into a better individual.
But what is left?
A Rusty unauthentic genius-ness, a loitered saboteur that no longer challenges you and a starved ego.
Who are they?
Who sets the standards of the world?
They said “they do”.