Porcelain Life

I live a porcelain life;
If you touch me, I may break. Shatter.
I've been taught to lead a life unafraid, strong, to yearn for what love is waiting for me, to soon discover it and bathe in its glowing warmth.
But everything I touch, everything I want to embrace, loses life. It fades.
I can gaze at the beauty and desire that a rose holds, I can bask in the ambiance of its presence for more than a few moments, but when I reach out -
Try to capture that which I thrive for so dearly, it withers, the colour of love, the colour of my heart cruelly suffers a slow death, Its energy, its essence, its life drained.
As I see its leaves begin to drop to the earth, I feel my own heart shrivelling inside of me.


I have become a curse to anyone, anything, that I so feel the need to 
Grasp , for its touch; they leave, they fade and as time passes, so will I.
I know I am never meant for love, it is my existence, it is why I live, it is what I yearn, but it is never meant for me.
Yet, I hold tremendous power,I feel love, I see love, I understand love,
But never will I have it. 

The Beast

It pre-dates written word, it pre-dates life, it pre-dates time itself. When God created this existence, he did so with love, when he created the first, they knew only of love, it controlled them, it beckoned them. Love is the destiny we have all been seeking for aeons, searching but never finding, but waiting and always getting. We never control love, for it controls us, we are its kingdom - its instrument.


Passion ; like a moth to a flame it leads us, pulls you in on the object of its objection, until it gets what it wants. It stirs and lingers within us all, if passion did not rule over us, ma
ybe me could understand peace. Animals we are, but we do not see. Ruled by selfishness and gluttony. 


Love. Passion. Its not what we can control, no matter how much we try, it always wins. Trying to stop it from getting what it wants - needs, would be to try and contain a fierce beast in a cage, that possesses the strength of Three thousand wise, strong men, its useless, unwanted and foolish. 


For years, we have been foolish enough to attempt to repress the ways of our animal instinct, but for years all we have done is fail. 
The animal always wins, although yearned for , it cannot 
be tamed. Perhaps one day far from now, we will now its boundaries. We will know the beast and its inhuman ways, and we shall bury it deep and true. Bury it and salt the earth.