Unfolding

Relationships can be severed and there are a lot of reasons why. Yet for me it is not because of a third party, but it is because there is a withholding of freedom. Love is one beautiful thing but in the hands of the obsessed or possessive it is dangerous. To the one who this love is bestowed at first offers a gleam of hope towards salvation from the things she wished to run away from, but now I have become the reason why she has to run away. I played with fire and I consumed it all the way until it was extinguished and now I suffer from the consequence. I know she likes the butterfly and I know she is one. She wishes to fly freely of the direction of her choice, and stupid of me to snip her wings and furthermore added salt to wound, I caged her. I was just a fool who took her intent when I met her a year ago that she wishes to go outside of the tyranny of her abode, but she wished to go back there and also to reconnect with her friends to whom I have sever the bond with for my ro

The stars and the view that we had upon a mountain before you accepted me in my life came unto me and made me remember you in that very night. I never thought that we could ever be such a lovely couple, so perfect that both in opposite complimented each other. With every passing day that went about, love grew into obsession. But that is all what I hopeless romantic could ever do in sight of one so dear. I have pressed upon my love to you so much and it ended up painful to see one choked. Too much of anything is not good at all, even when that something is divine by its nature. The split was an awakening that I have been overly ideal and forget that we are humans. I have been like a god pressing so much of it being infinite, but mortal as we are we are flawed and we take prowess in change also. I made mistakes and I am grateful that with those you still bear with me, happy I am to know I am loved, and even though of several days passing of the split made me realize a lot of things

I am indeed the anarchist and the hopelessly aspirant of glories. A reflection of the desperate past that has passed over the same soul to me. The anger, the violence, chaotic, my childhood was but a waste, the product of discipline and fear but I do laud the principles and the kind of consciousness it has brought unto me, but it is allergic to the person to whom I love so dear. I am but to change and I wish not to keep what is ill for her and that men are destined to change only to those to whom they love so dear. Fighting fire with fire is Shakespeare, but not Johannah Joy Batiancila. Vengeance is not in her heart but her softness and purity makes her divine to forgive without regret. I am but the fool, the arrogant, the ignorant and the bastard. The whole world was my toy and now it seems that I am been discarded as one because of who I am. But still I can change. Now is my trial and no other woman did made me bend my knees and shut my pride, to cry and to beg as if I am of

Juliet was caged on an ivory tower upon message that she will be wed soon, a thing truly by the hands of her elders. Why? Why do they held her from freedom? Is it not a gift that we all have to cherish once we come to age? Are we yet to remain children under their eyes and once they pass leave us unto this world old in countenance but bereft of liberty practiced earlier? Was it not the dream of the slaves back then that they will embrace death no matter what as long as the journey they set foot are from the sweat and blood of their own toil? Death is but only inevitable but every man must have their own paths to forge, to meet their end with glory. Is it not that love that moves us all into such an act that we dare to step outside from the bounds of our towers only to enjoy freedom with the one you vested your heart upon? Yet there are those, one of a jealous heart that keeps one from the joys of Love’s fruits. They are stirred to summon caution to one for fear of loss, but to wha