Strange is the route to love; the paths we follow are just what mark the little differences. There are only three ways to love; the one we pass in, that one we pass out, and that way that we pass to stay. Love is like a bird flowing in three directions. The first leads to excitement, the second realization, and the third settlement. It tastes like poison to he that meets with its bitterness, it sends a honey-like sensation to he that is fated to his sweetness, and wisdom to he that tastes its both sides. Like a stranger in the night, the spell of love beckons the tenderness of a green heart and turn it alas, and its sound inspires a song of redemption to a lost mind, and make ridicule of an arrogant soul. The foolish curse at its bitterness, the wise dance to its tune… Who of course can swing direction as love?
Love is like an endless ocean where you swim across different fishes; that with short head and long tail, the one with long head and short tail, of different types of colors to their nature, their shapes accordingly to their elegance, of different names to each of them. Will these therefore be the reason why you choose which one is best or which is worse? They are created and molded in their best creatures by their creator. Is therefore beauty not in the eyes of the beholder? Doesn't it take the creator only to tell which is best? It takes an insightful mind to ask for directions from him that owns the map.
Love is also like building a stem of royal castle with decks of cards where every step of cards counts. Patience is called to assist the mind; carefulness is besieged to direct the fingers, where instinct is not a factor to making thorough choices, where every touch of cards and their points of edges matter. One mistake, the whole house falls to the beginning. Such is the lucky one that made it to the final piece in a fast but not hurried motion, and recklessly bow to the temptation of the fear of not to crash and burn on the fast lane, which he eventually did; an act of cowardice in the face of a fierce battle, doesn't it after all take the brave to wave the sword of love?
Love too, really is like the flower found in the multitude of thorns, like the sound drop of a pin in an ocean. Who else could see light at the end of a tunnel if not a soul with vision, who else can imagine a tiny bit of hope in hopelessness than he that is hopeful of good things, who else could build foundation with the stones others throw at him than he with a mind of his own. Love is found in the rarest of places, nurtured to proper growth in the hands of an optimist, foster to greatness in the mind of the determined. For no one is more worthy of love than he that findeth a beautiful heart in an ugly fountain, sees the throne of sweetness in a thorn vessel, and brace for the challenges to come in the hope of the crown of glory that awaits the fleeting moments of uphill. Does true love seemingly come cheap in gold and silver?
Love is an irony of itself, it is itself when it suits the moment, and it is hatred when it is forced to grow where it is planted by material wealth, covetousness, selfishness, betrayal, deceit, arrogance, and its kindred. Of what balance is it then if love is stood on compromise?
The strangest act of love is it beckons whenever it wishes. Some once and then forever, to some twice and forever, and while to some more and forever. Suffice to say, the heart that hurt could be back to bring along joy, and the one that promises to be bright could storm itself to its Apocalypse. For can one say because of these he would love no more? Because in reality, love hurts and it is euphoric, bitter and sweet, lives and dies and is rebirth, blind and sees. For which oat is greater, that of a covenant or that of a promise? Which love is greater, unconditional or unconventional? Of what value is love if it wore the cloak of unforgiveness? Love at any less of this isn't it then worthless? The road to love could be patchy and rocky, but it always lead to somewhere with the splendor of bed of roses and daffodils.
So my dearie friends, colleagues and loved ones, especially the one I profess my love to,take me, take your loved ones, in the truest path of love. And let's live love to the fullness in its purest nature, Irrespective of the status and personality. We are of course not equal, are we?
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