Bridges

   

How do we love in flames? How do we make love when we are caged in the thorns of yesterday's fog? How do we live without love? The way providence twists at the expense of moments made in the glory of "carpedium". All lost love has a similar story, of how hell and heaven were promised, of how you felt like the most desired object in the world, of how you let yourself fly in bare expressions. Can you remember the serenity of having a soul that rightly accords you all? Like the monarchy, you are showered in repetitive tenderness and how you only see the world as the object, nothing else thrills you, not even your family. You lived in that world full of just the two of you, full of the definition of love you knew, full of the present, full of tense romantic adventures. You told yourself, this is life, this is how to live.

The day you stumbled on storms, you fought it together and you felt the relief of having someone supporting you and you thought you have arrived as the hero of love. Life was blissful with your beloved. You planned your little life together, and you served as partners to each other. " hello, meet my lover, my friend, my sibling, my reading partner, my business partner, my prayer partner, my future, meet another me". You go on in ramblings, proclaiming to the world how the world evolved around your beloved. All your moments were spent together at the expense of each volition, your bodies clasped into mutual comity. You have seen hope to live, a reason to excel, and salute haters with your middle finger. You felt good, you felt alive to be in love and be loved, it was a mutual birth. 

When you thought you have arrived, the thorns arrived before you, made a new home in your beloved's, the thorns chased you out from the placed home of your paradise. Your brim had the shock more, your mind turned like that screw, you could have sworn that it would be an eternal chronicle, you could have baited your soul instead, anything to have more moments. The thorns became an adorable object of your beloved, your beloved beckons to you like an alien and a departed kitten. Your beloved became an autonomous temple far away beyond your initial nurses. Your all in all turned to a mist lurking in your eyes. Your feathers stabbed you, your strength went home with the cloud, your heart became bushy with bitterness and rejection. You tainted your beloved to see if a futile hope emerged, but your beloved passed like a flawless winch locked in a hidden mystery. 

You didn't know how to live again; you were left in a dilemma of quitting life or formatting it and living again. You thought of piercing your beloved with anything, but the past restrained you, those taunting memories halted your plot and ploy. You were just off balance and didn't know how to proceed with life. Your dreams and ambition departed with your esteemed beloved, you were left with options of going back to get your dreams or creating another, but both seemed like an illusion of an endless quest. You thought you have lost all to that bond, you believed that was the reason for your life, you assumed the law of "carpedium" and forgot its essence. You neglected the souls calling out for your renaissance. You walked alone in your distress, you lived in forlorn shadows, you adored your pains, you lived in a monumental carcass, and you wallowed in unclad bitterness, until the day we saw your body in a forgotten dry gutter with your stained diary.