In spite of her better judgement,
She could not help surrendering to the allure of his words.
So aloof she seemed; hiding fantasies so self indulgent
Unwilling and unable to move forward.
His face.
His square jaw.
His hair.
She dreams of ripped lace,
Raw,
Without a care.
Tears have been shed,
Blood has been bled,
But she won’t dare wish…
For the torture to end.
Because if nothing else…
It is romantic.
Cinematic.
Tragic.
Lost in the adventure
Of his wild and cryptic mind
She left her soul behind,
Burning her body in rapture.
God, forgive me,
For I know that what I desire
Is forbidden.
Naked, defenceless,
A fool, lost and alone.
Shockwaves, relentless,
No one to call her own
Still, she clings to broken dreams,
Until her dying day, her last breath,
It seems.
Love, it makes us mad with hope
Crushed,
mercilessly,
by reality.
In spite of knowing better,
We choose pain,
With nothing to gain.
– Does love strip us of free will?
After-thoughts…
Is there such a thing as free will when it comes to love?
Yes, we can channel our love however we choose,
But the feeling itself, does not simply vanish by choice.
It persists, enslaving us, despite our best efforts to be free.
This, to me, challenges the the very notion of free will in all matters concerning love.
Whimsical Wordsmith 