Do you know what it's like to miss someone until your heart cracks under the strain? Or how about what it's like to love so much that you couldn't possibly have any more feeling in you? It seems that when it comes to love and sorrow, they are alone in a category of endless feeling. Two feelings that seem to be infinite. When does it end? Does it ever end? They seem to be feelings that only lessen. It's like the half life of radioactive material. It never goes away, it just becomes smaller and smaller. Infinitely smaller, but never gone.
What of love hast thou but a merry enchantment of joy? What of joy but thy gravest loss of hatred. What of hatred but the kindred spirit of angst. Trust thou without angst to be a body of enlightenment and purest of pure love.
And alas, what of sorrow doth thou see? Perhaps but a myriad of painfulness and loss. A veritable trifecta of hurt, anger and mistaken blame. And what doth thou make of blame but thou urge to lash out unto thy brother for thy pain. Alas therefore blame is mistaken, for blame unto thy brother is the fault of the devil.
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