In the growing consciousness of possible in my reality of perspectives, I strive on for release. In the great mindedness of philosophy and higher social knowledge, love is too simple…and too compicated. Too simple to understand and too complex to understand is that which I strive after. It is that which our world fights over. It is the cause of distress and thanks-giving. It is black and it is white. Evil and Riteous. It is this morbid yet pure power that still yet bounds me to my shareholder and by the action of the compromisation made times ago. Though love fades in the absence of two as one…a single thread holds my memory and present together. A thread of sacrifice and devotion to which I see no end. Though the consciousness and wisdom of my mind wants the thread cut, my heart wants nothing more than to sowe.

With the stitches pulled from a broken, torn, and ripped heart, it falls apart. The shock sends raptures through the spine and throughout the body with signals of confusion to and in the brain. Sheer pain and confusion brinks the ever-nearing end of my being. As the platform is pulled out from under me, I fall into darkness. Shrouded in ebony is all I become to see. Searching and searching for even the slightest flame to cast a light upon a path. With a small flame, my theory can grow from there. Feeding the fire, I can figure out why and what and who. And the flame will grow larger as will the light of my own creation.

Realization lessens as does care of any reasons. I find all I care for is my hearts desires. And to this day my heart cries out to help and create a common ground of understanding. To feed the idea…I am still on your side.