Who am I to drink in love’s sweet wine and take its life-giving miracle?
Who am I to deny my end when the raven leaves its feather at my door?
I am only human, so I am no one.
Therefore as a human, if I deny that my love is as hollow as a dead elm and is just as diseased, would it make my longing more bearable?
Or as no one, would it simply be a fact undeniable?
I alone carry a love that ages to perfection like full-bodied French Syrah.
Yet once my love is breathed into another, the fruit rots and the wine is spoiled.
What good is my love if only I can partake of it; that is, if only I can drink of its richness without the grape itself spoiling within my body?
Is there someone who can savor the intensity that is my desire?
Someone who can breathe its sweet hypnotic aroma?
Someone who can taste its deluding lushness?
Is there someone who can partake without slipping into anguish’s arms under the beautiful guise of Euphoria?
No, my lush Syrah will remain untouched and continue to age
So that I alone will know its strong scent
I alone will know its flavor and twist my tongue at its pleasurable bitterness
So when the raven drops its feather at my door and I hear the bells toll in the distance,
I will be human and I will be alone…
-Harli V. Park-
Urrg, having skipped that one post has been a pain to think about. I really have been suffering on the scheduling train. I can’t tell if its too much to do or that I lack ideas. Probably a combo of both, but I managed! Day 14. This was a rough one. Hopefully I’ll have a better start this week and not feel like crap.
At least you guys are enjoying this, though. So many new people! Makes me happy!
Hang in there with me! It get’s better once I feel out how my schedule is going to fall!
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