I am pretty sure that if my love became a group of birds it would be comprised of these european starlings and would be lead by a murder of crows. The would steal dreams from those with heavy hearts and replace them with something beautiful. Sadness can be beautiful. Like the sound of tears pattering against the skin of your one true love. Tsung Tsoa believed that you never truly know a man until the last moments before death, when there are no barriers between life and pure honesty. Can one truly feel the love that embraces them until they can see is drifting off into the void. Death is love. Death is romantic. Life is just a means of falling in love. Death is a way of remembering it. There is nothing cold in this embrace. What a gift it would be to share your last heartbeat with one other. What a true show of love it would be to only breathe the air they breathe, as your last breath. Let the colour surround you. Be painted with death. Life is just a means of getting there. A means of finding purity, love and honesty. Do not resist, for it is your right. Sadness can be beautiful.
Posted on: Thu, 06 Jun 2013 16:06:30 +0000
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