To the passersby, nothing seemed unusual about the ceremony taking place in the farthest corner of the sprawling cemetery. Their lack of interest suggested that in progress was just another ordinary and harmless event. Some of them even made jokes about the grave posturing of the attendant standing a little bit away from the crowd, not knowing that to him this wasn’t just a burial; but a reminder that nature had once more acted defiantly, handing out a painful token of finality to another life.
He raised his head and slowly surveyed the mourners, trying to dissect the intense sorrow he thought he sensed was concealed beneath each calm face, but he found nothing. His searching gaze then wandered beyond the gathering, and as if for the first time, traversed across an enchanting and peaceful mile upon mile of dazzling white stones. His eyes watered; he thought he could see infinity.
He raised his head and slowly surveyed the mourners, trying to dissect the intense sorrow he thought he sensed was concealed beneath each calm face, but he found nothing. His searching gaze then wandered beyond the gathering, and as if for the first time, traversed across an enchanting and peaceful mile upon mile of dazzling white stones. His eyes watered; he thought he could see infinity.
Christine who fellow staff-mates fondly called Christina was a truly compassionate physiotherapist struggling to make a name for herself in Marymaris Nursing Home. Her patient and persistent probing, gentle instructions and firm assurances was giving Nel a thread of hope to hang onto as his life seemed to be dangling from a web of rotting strings.
A robust, slender lady somewhere in her mid-twenties, Christina had on several occasions assured Nel in a trilling voice full of confidence that with time all would turn out well for him. He’d clang to that thread of hope with a vice-like grip, as though he was clutching a slippery plank, fighting not to drown in a terrifying ocean of dejection. He’d been fervently praying for something else like blindness, impotence, insanity or any other affliction just in case fortune had decreed that he was to spend the rest of his life an invalid. But certainly not this `death’ by installments which he daily watched devouring his body piece by piece, not this ability to think without the power to transform the thoughts into action; the ability to hear and see but not feel anything.
His desperate need to get up and move as he’d done before was intensifying daily, turning into an unbearable obsession as he watched his useless body wasting away. These days he considered himself to be a living corpse. His physical being was decomposing, and he feared the insidious process would soon turn to his soul and eat away his inner essence too.
Oh no, not this, he silently cried for something different. Though he constantly returned to a vain wish he clearly understood nothing would ever grant, his spirit to fight on, to hang onto life had already slipped into a void where it daily struggled in an intractable limbo beyond the power of medical science.
A robust, slender lady somewhere in her mid-twenties, Christina had on several occasions assured Nel in a trilling voice full of confidence that with time all would turn out well for him. He’d clang to that thread of hope with a vice-like grip, as though he was clutching a slippery plank, fighting not to drown in a terrifying ocean of dejection. He’d been fervently praying for something else like blindness, impotence, insanity or any other affliction just in case fortune had decreed that he was to spend the rest of his life an invalid. But certainly not this `death’ by installments which he daily watched devouring his body piece by piece, not this ability to think without the power to transform the thoughts into action; the ability to hear and see but not feel anything.
His desperate need to get up and move as he’d done before was intensifying daily, turning into an unbearable obsession as he watched his useless body wasting away. These days he considered himself to be a living corpse. His physical being was decomposing, and he feared the insidious process would soon turn to his soul and eat away his inner essence too.
Oh no, not this, he silently cried for something different. Though he constantly returned to a vain wish he clearly understood nothing would ever grant, his spirit to fight on, to hang onto life had already slipped into a void where it daily struggled in an intractable limbo beyond the power of medical science.
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Now look at that |
Do you love romance? How about romantic poetry?
I have had time to really think about you and I, and I have come to the conclusion that I truly and deeply love you, and I need you in my life with all my heart and soul. But when I view the circumstances surrounding us, I sadly and painfully realize that you hardly love me at all. Your true heart’s desires seems to me to lie elsewhere, in another place, in different sets of circumstances far removed from what I represent, what I am to you and what I might mean to you if only you’d give me the chance. My true hearts affection is to you; and there is no other one I adore as much, but it seems I only exist on the periphery of your tender feelings and caring. I am just one other person amongst others who might occasionally and temporarily ignite tepid warmth in your heart - just an anonymous presence in a vast field of tenderness in which your heart may sometimes find humor and succor: but only when you need a quick dose of an emotional high. It breaks my heart when I realize there is absolutely nothing I can do to pretend that my feelings for you are not real, and my despair is made worse by the knowledge that I cannot change this tortuous state of heart’s affairs because true affection can never be bought by silver and gold. I thought in you I’d find everlasting love, but all I have reaped from you is searing heartache. You will find more stuff like this when I finish this collection. Coming soon!
I have had time to really think about you and I, and I have come to the conclusion that I truly and deeply love you, and I need you in my life with all my heart and soul. But when I view the circumstances surrounding us, I sadly and painfully realize that you hardly love me at all. Your true heart’s desires seems to me to lie elsewhere, in another place, in different sets of circumstances far removed from what I represent, what I am to you and what I might mean to you if only you’d give me the chance. My true hearts affection is to you; and there is no other one I adore as much, but it seems I only exist on the periphery of your tender feelings and caring. I am just one other person amongst others who might occasionally and temporarily ignite tepid warmth in your heart - just an anonymous presence in a vast field of tenderness in which your heart may sometimes find humor and succor: but only when you need a quick dose of an emotional high. It breaks my heart when I realize there is absolutely nothing I can do to pretend that my feelings for you are not real, and my despair is made worse by the knowledge that I cannot change this tortuous state of heart’s affairs because true affection can never be bought by silver and gold. I thought in you I’d find everlasting love, but all I have reaped from you is searing heartache. You will find more stuff like this when I finish this collection. Coming soon!
I am home at last, says the eternal drifter.
I can now think freely without thinking, About what someone else is thinking, About my thinking. But no one is thinking any more! I am in love again, the eternal drifter’s heart says, And I can now love madly, Without loving what everyone else loves about love. But who is there to love? |
I am retracing the sweet silver path,
You engraved in my heart, Back to where we parted ways. This time if I find you, I will gently bear you in my bosom wherever I go. I am all set to go, And there is only your spirit to shine my way through this dark hour. For your spell over me is like an everlasting song of sweet affection. For if ever my heart beat in harmony To the rhythms and echoes of another distant heart, If ever my soul yearned after the warmth of another soul, If ever my spirits knew the sublime happiness of tender affections, Then my life knew none other in sweet surrender. |
As real as reflections on polished glass,
Your fragile beauty; vividly dwells in my mind, Your ethereal presence; comforting for every hour I pass, Each minute lost in thought; hoping love in you to find. For in sweet surrender; I drift along in a heady trance, My soul in turmoil; gladly counting each passing day, My feelings all on fire; yearning to get a chance, For just a moment; all my heart’s desire to say. But forsaken and lonely; like a lost spiritual pilgrim of old, My flames of passion flare, and my heart burns with a crave, My arms aching; just your supple body to hold, So that my dead soul; can rise from this emotional grave. |