Love. The word itself, definitive; the act of it, controversial. Too little of such an emotion and you will lapse in a disbelief of it; believing it’s not for you. Too much of it and it turns in a barbiturate, a potentially lethal narcotic, which ends up trivializing any other emotions. Too bad you haven’t much control over it-
The paradox of temptation. A hunt where you play the predator as well as the prey. The thing you cannot find in the same place you lost it. Try to trace your steps and you’ll come face-to-face with the creatures you had created pursuing it; although it was in the light that you became familiar with them. At the present moment, it’s dark. You saw them before as blithesome experiences; now you feel them in the ultraviolet light of the galactic showers of the nights horizon. The creatures now perceived in different wavelengths, allowing you to be exposed to them in an extrasensory fashion; appearing in a more phantasmagoric, ominous manner than ever before. Some are bewitching- captivating, garnished with fleecy, delicate fur; such as a seed head of a dandelion- fraying to the very current of the wind, over time revealing nothing besides defiled flesh under closer inspection. Others are more intimidating at first glance; bicornuous beings, scabrous to the touch, prone to draw blood if you were to come into contact with their hide. Regardless, all of them are feral because you lost them. They’re no longer domesticated. The reunion is bittersweet. You can visit whenever, although it doesn’t mean you are welcome there. It’s no longer a haven, but a hazardous place to wander. It’s inevitably willed to be a necropolis of hopeless dreams; a testament portraying your past desires and emotions that help define you. In spite of everything, these endangered species you brought into existence will cease to be. - Nevermore
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