evening sun
Midnights are the hardest part of my days.
As the moon glides upward towards the infinite sky, I wandered in my world - hopelessly aiming, carelessly dreaming. It strikes me so hard. For a moment, I thought my head was hit by a spiked ball. Why does "this" always happen during those times when you desperately need some sleep?... By "this" I mean the ever pensive thoughts that the moon keeps as his companion. At some point you'd say: "I'd welcome you any other time, but not right now."
How ironic... My friend and I discussed this "event" just hours ago... The topic was brought about by two reasons: 1) his and 2) mine... Similar at some point, but very different... I'll tell you the story that made our eyes swollen and red... the story that made us helpless... the story that the moon made us see...
It all began when we had a drink. the pub was full as it always was. as usual the, the bar tender saved us seats at the far corner of the shack. as a habit, we would sit there and listen to tales of politics, bravery, finely crafted swords, women and romance...
"I wish for this curse to be lifted for I ache for my beloved Juliet's embrace." cried a man drunk beyond all reasons.
My companion and I seemed to be thinking the same thoughts for our eyes met both filled with the expressions of ridicule and pity. Our sword prevented us to speak out our authentic thoughts, but our hearts knew the man's desire to be with his beloved. Both our stories were once revolving in a very different world - a world most knew by the name love...
My companion and I knew of this world. But both have contrasting sceneries so to speak. For my friend, his beloved, far she may be but no distance shall keep his love from her. I, on the other hand, have given in to war. My bloodstained hands knows only to tear open another man's chest and deprive him of his heart. I knew little of how hearts work. I only knew that once it has been ripped out - there he lies and death comes to meet him.
I have felt my heart beat... yes, I have... But as it beats to a rythm I could not understand, it was crushed. And I felt no more.
As the campaign ends with victory, I know not what to live for. Until I met her. But now, my heart doubts. The man who stood by me in battle until we no longer had the strength to unsheathe our swords, has continuously pushed me to accept this doubt and plundge towards depths unknown.
I feared... But I lept no less... Hoping that in the face of death I learned how to live...
As the moon glides upward towards the infinite sky, I wandered in my world - hopelessly aiming, carelessly dreaming. It strikes me so hard. For a moment, I thought my head was hit by a spiked ball. Why does "this" always happen during those times when you desperately need some sleep?... By "this" I mean the ever pensive thoughts that the moon keeps as his companion. At some point you'd say: "I'd welcome you any other time, but not right now."
How ironic... My friend and I discussed this "event" just hours ago... The topic was brought about by two reasons: 1) his and 2) mine... Similar at some point, but very different... I'll tell you the story that made our eyes swollen and red... the story that made us helpless... the story that the moon made us see...
It all began when we had a drink. the pub was full as it always was. as usual the, the bar tender saved us seats at the far corner of the shack. as a habit, we would sit there and listen to tales of politics, bravery, finely crafted swords, women and romance...
"I wish for this curse to be lifted for I ache for my beloved Juliet's embrace." cried a man drunk beyond all reasons.
My companion and I seemed to be thinking the same thoughts for our eyes met both filled with the expressions of ridicule and pity. Our sword prevented us to speak out our authentic thoughts, but our hearts knew the man's desire to be with his beloved. Both our stories were once revolving in a very different world - a world most knew by the name love...
My companion and I knew of this world. But both have contrasting sceneries so to speak. For my friend, his beloved, far she may be but no distance shall keep his love from her. I, on the other hand, have given in to war. My bloodstained hands knows only to tear open another man's chest and deprive him of his heart. I knew little of how hearts work. I only knew that once it has been ripped out - there he lies and death comes to meet him.
I have felt my heart beat... yes, I have... But as it beats to a rythm I could not understand, it was crushed. And I felt no more.
As the campaign ends with victory, I know not what to live for. Until I met her. But now, my heart doubts. The man who stood by me in battle until we no longer had the strength to unsheathe our swords, has continuously pushed me to accept this doubt and plundge towards depths unknown.
I feared... But I lept no less... Hoping that in the face of death I learned how to live...
posted by popi at 10:35 PM
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