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 what extent will
one begin to forge her own destiny? Perils are always present when freedom is
at play. All of them are inevitable, yet the great thing is to set upon those
perils as a free woman, and to go about them with the freedom one has.
When we were yet children it is
deemed as necessity to follow the footsteps of our parents and to respect them,
but the real parents are those who will soon let their children go, cast them
free from their dominion to slowly make them men to govern their own paths in
the times to come. Is it not a great fortune to see one that was once yet a
toddler now self-sufficient to live in his own, absent burden anymore to
parents? Mind you, they will not fly unless you push them off the cliff. But if
heart softens of such act, then heart is wronged to see one eternally caress
and see withered skin with mind yet child.
My Juliet was imprisoned, her fortress
fortified by stone of their insecurity amassing great heights from their pride
to withdraw Romeo from sight and to tire him to surrender. But this boy is
caught by Love’s snare and would gamble and fight the heavens just to feel his
Juliet underneath the warmth of his touch. Juliet is a grown woman betrothed to
her loved one but chained to childhood in the eyes of her parents. She but
struggles all day to find ways to get down, to reach Romeo halfway as he climbs
the tower, but each day, the tower grows in height as parents laugh to scorn seeing
both move the heavens just to exchange each other’s touch. Day and night do
both toil to gain each other’s warmth, but day and night without sleep her
parents fortifies grip. We may seldom slip from grasp but it is a hard and long
fall to immediately claim freedom upon the meadows, but we wish not to die yet
in attempt, for we still have lives to forge on our own to embrace death in
warmth with the lover beside.
Romeo, prior to labour asked in
courtesy and proved well in words and deeds to show unto them that Juliet can
rest assure her freedom and safety so as the blood she carries not be tarnished
with wrath or her being ill placed in the world. But Romeo’s effort continue to
prove short to their eyes who were too but a product of whirlwind love that came
in so early a time. Romeo knew their toil for their mistake and that is what
they hold close to heart in fear to what will happen to Juliet if she is to
fly. Destinies are not the same, so as the journey to get there be of the same,
that is yet one thing they have to bear in mind. They cannot tarnish our
history and our future by similar ink of their stain and if they do have the
wisdom then they claim false truth under the guise of insecurity.
They manoeuvre our lives as if we
are but reflections of their mistakes. Yes, we bear the mistakes of their past,
but let it be the same mistake to forever withheld us from such liberty to
create our own destiny. Who knows, we may best the ones they fall short and
wound their pride so deep but not placing intent of vengeance but to simply
live what we ought to live. Love yet continues to guide these two lovers into a
impossible journey, but let it thus be so that their endeavour will end in
defiance to other’s will in attempt to create their own. Parent! Would you wish
to see from the heavens your child’s heart relinquished from achieving its own
desire to follow your own? To see their hearts deceived by the illusion of
yours to be the ultimate recourse of history? We understand the difficulty of
setting one to become a man, but mind you, forever bind us in chains and we are
like wild animals cornered, we shall show teeth to the last, or even in
attempt, die as free beings bereft of the morning sun to manifest our freedom,
but in the sun’s set, slept in death’s bosom too as free, not anymore as your
slave who you wish to choke us beneath heel to lick your ass.
Love is what we behold, and Love
can move mountains, love endures and it will break down the walls of your
malevolence whether in this life or the next. We will not come into terms of
surrender, but we shall balance the scale of your intent with soaring flames of
our passion. Hate us in this lifetime, hate us for being free, to forge our own
lives, hate us for being happy. And if you wish also to say the same, you had
your chances before, with all courtesy let not history reoccur out of jealous
pride. Give us a chance to bleed in this world as free people, to suffer in
this world holding each other’s hands, not to be bored to death in an ivory
tower with no exercise of the heart, the will. We shall forge our own paths, halt
us you may, but fight we shall in response. We do not mean to dishonour you, we
only mean to do likewise for you to see
what we have learned on our own, to aid you in peaceful death to see us live like
titans in this world with no worries of our lives because we are slowly
learning to handle it on our own.
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