In his prison of a home the bitter man lives.
His life is a shell; a husk of what it once was.
Every hour of every day this man cries out in a sorrow passionate enough to break a candlegod's heart.
Yet he refuses to wither for this man is the Moses of love.
Once his life shone as brightly as a thousand suns. And today's sorrows were yesterday's passions.
Today's whimpers were yesterday's roars. Today's tears was yesterday's sweat.
In the land called Praxis, these archetypes walk the lands, and battle with the awesome power of titans.
This piece of writing is multi-faceted. I've been trapped in a labyrinth of the monster "Unknown". My lover I did not know if she had perhaps fallen out of love with me. So I poured my sorrows and fears of what I might become into this archetype in Praxis.
Turns out she did fall out of love with me and just broke up with me, but I'll save writings regarding that for another time, as this piece of writing was made before I discovered this.
Love is a strange thing. It takes faith to maintain the strongest love that will last a life-time. But if it's one-sided, then it becomes labelled as an "obsession". This results in clinginess for those who are not disciplined enough, like me. I guess it means I'm selfish as well. But again, these thoughts are writing for another time.
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