Lost Love

A Chapter by WatcherInSilence

And they were nothing but two love birds lost in a sea of desperation, with broken wings and a wet body incapable to take flight. She had found her lover and drowned in her feelings. The confusion set in and took away her light.

He had devoted his life in search of his flame, but it haunted him endlessly until it devoured every piece of his soul. Love tormented them both, but there was no escaping it. And on the crossroad of that abandoned street, they would meet every once in a while, telling their tales and screaming out their miseries to each other.

They were blind fools who couldn't see the shining light in front of them. He had long burned for her love, but got lost seeking more venturous paths. She too had longed for his mind, and joyful spirit, but ultimately got caught up in undesirable incest.

Do not, my friends, tell me that there is a greater power than love. For it is both chaos and serenity, delicately wrapped so as to unfold blatantly on the human soul. There is no shielding ones’ self from it. Turn to your religion, turn to your practices, and turn to your God: is there a means to escape its punishment?

The wrath of love cannot be contained in this world. For if it did, we would all experience bliss and joy. And where does human pain fit into that claim, you ask?

Torture and suffering are but the fruit of incomplete love. For those who thought of themselves wise to have conquered love are but pitied fools of life. Love in all its might will remain unconquered by man, leading him on the trail of sacrifice and misfortune.

In the darkest of nights, in the midst of the shadows and the rumbling sea waves, you can hear the screeching echo of love calling the lovers, guiding them back to shore.

But they had set sail for a long time now, and ventured into the unknown worlds of the abyss. In truth, once man has stumbled upon love, he becomes its captive, trapped in a land of intricate sentiments and inexplicable passions. And once that same man has lost all sight of love, he is a martyr of the abyss, dwelling in an untapped darkness that shields him from every light.

Find love, my dears, and let it find you; for he who seeks a lost treasure may be fooled by a barren chest of bones and remains. Encounter darkness and adversity not once, but multiple times; for they are often what help us discern the night skies from the dark ocean deep.

To all the lost souls embarking on the journeys of love, know this: the road is paved with mishaps, compounded by the occasional misfortunes. Do not be seduced by the sirens of the deep, or duped by the man who lends you a helping hand.

Follow your heart, and hear the music in your soul, as it is often the safest way out, even in the deepest waters.

And when you find yourself rolling in quicksand, remember this: the best things in life are always plagued by fear and torture, but these are but outer shells that conceal the real gem. And when you are sinking deeply into the land, being swallowed whole by its waters, remember that courage is the greatest virtue in life; for man is but a phoenix, destined to fall before rising from its ashes.

We have all been burned by the fires of love, and our scars still bleed at night. Do not dwell miserably in the coalmine, as you will suffocate from its stenches. Rise and rise again, until you touch the hand of God and bring the light back to your life.

Do not go the distance to capture what is in front of your eyes; for literature, art, music and words have always been the weapons of an exposed nation, covering its flaws and filling up its cracks.

They are the true conceivers of love, the guides to our passions. Follow their rhythm; embrace the harmony of their composition, as they are not only truth-tellers, but also future-seers of the myths shrouding love.

Tell the tales of a broken man, a desperate woman or a lost traveler. For experience is invaluable and cannot be taught in life. Rather, it can be passed on from one blind mind to another.

Seek to transmit, not teach, for we are neither rule-enforcers nor corrupt anarchists. Form the bonds that have long been chained by vanity and greed. Find the light in your own life and use it to spark the life of others.

Only in the darkest times do we cry out for a helping hand, forgetting that it is ever present, waiting for the slightest slip to be called into action.

And love, as they said, was their greatest weapon. An irreplaceable tool of fortitude that has the power to prevent wars before they happen and put an end to misery as it strikes.

That is the true ingredient to a healthy life. Search for happiness, and look for it through the lens of love. Do not overshadow your feelings with meaningless achievements.

For they are, in the end, worthless deeds stacked up in our bookshelves and kept there until they are forgotten. Look for what is long-lasting and grab it, embrace it and hold it until it slowly slips away from your grip; let it become the light in you.

Man, from the moment of birth, has been an enemy of darkness. We come into the world with open eyes and open arms to express the light that shines in us and receive that of life.

The same light that turned to flares in the little girl’s eyes, holding her boyfriend’s hand for the first time. That girl had grown and matured, carefully nurtured by the provisions of life.

And the wary stranger waiting by the deck, always the first to spot the incoming ship, rushing by the pavement to welcome the incomers, ever so hopeful of finding a fondness he lacked in his life.

The myths of love draw many uncertainties in a man’s life. He spends minutes, hours, days, months, years, decades, centuries, millenniums and finally, lifetimes to unravel its mysteries and fades away into the sands without ever understanding them. He dwells on the idea that love is universal, that it is a unique feeling that lays out a life plan of dedication and devotion.

To the ignorant minds that are yet to experience the true power of love, remember this: love is unique, but love is not a way of life. And whenever you struggle with this definition, ask yourselves this: Who of these is deemed fit to be a lover, the miserable fool who chases after a woman, blatantly showering her with transparent emotions, or the forgotten popper that lies in the shadows, keeping them at bay from the woman he loves?

Love comes in shapes and sizes, but ultimately brings out the best of man. It is a feeling that transcends our intellect, and rises above our comprehension.

It is the will that makes us grow wings and fly, the brush that captures every whisker of our imagination, the sentiment that renders us bigger than life.

But do not forget, my friends, that love is a two-way street, a double-edged blade: it always ends in remorse, bitterness and sorrow. It sinks us into a world where the values are deemed worthless, and everything is put into question. The simplest of acts, like a morning sun, become unfamiliar to us, as we are detached from our world.

He who has not stepped into this land of sorrows has not experienced the entirety of love. A heart-breaker for some, a breaker of hearts for all, more abundant than the air we breathe and more consistent than the bread we feast on.

There is no end to its power, and man shall forever fall short in his quest of deciphering it, understanding it and maybe someday, conquering it.

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