The mask of love

Dream me an idol of ghostly love and I'll show you a myth; an utopian fantasy. 

Dwell on that whilst fading away in a silent moment. An introspective meditation. And allow lower expectations by raising higher standards. For, you dwell through a world of deaf and blinded men who have fed on numbness.

Muted in constrained capabilities, the weaker stand strong on top of giant goblins. Angels look away in disguised nausea, as they hold hands with shy demons.

"Love is binding", some shout.

"It's hatred passion", they claim in disguise.

And no one knows real from false.

No one cares.

Open the eyes of the seeing, and the blind shall follow. But allow not the eyes to define beauty. For its blinding nature may cause harm in harmonious chaos. 

Fear not, for the above is not blabbering nor nonsense. But a reflection of human relationships.

For, is it not true that the numbness of will silences the vital? Yet, the vital will do no such thing

...understand the riddle, and know the path.

Miguel Lev