Rosetta Stone @passerinesongbird - Tumblr Blog

What is love?

Gentle breeze on a tumultuous summer noon or bud in a spring clad tree

Agony bud on a summer famine or rain in a desert.What is love?

Shattered by bewilderment,I stood there lone,It was just a pretext for he looked me in the eye through a distance.

That day, something broke,my insecurities,I was now surrendered ready to be taken to prison.

But this prison seemed different,ecstasy in bondage and I wasn't an orphan anymore.

The whole universe conspired and he held me through,showering his traversing emotions,

His rage became mine,his vulnerability became mine and thus began the divine dance into tranquility,a translated language of soul.

Took me eternity long to find my broken pieces again, unless it's crushing devotion don't call my name.

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Masked was his love and, felony served me.

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passerinesongbird

"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it." - Jane Austen (Emma)

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"If I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am. You hear nothing but truth from me. I have blamed you, lectured you, and you have borne it as no other woman in England would have borne it." - Jane Austen (Emma)

#@tumblr #tumblr staff #spilled ink #random #inktober #jane austen #emma #missing #love #emma woodhouse #george knightley

passerinesongbird

Here we go again.

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saa-33

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heartofmuse

Wherever you are I wish you well with all my heart. I hope life is kind and you often smile. Yes, I think of you. I've never forgotten. What I have taken into my soul remains in my soul and the soul is eternal. So here you are, never gone from me, and though the years pass, I still sit by the fire and remember you as I hold my cup of coffee and look at the flames. Always moments of my life trigger memories of you, and I think of you, of all we lived, of where you are now, without me, of how many more years I will live always carrying your memory. It is a sense of gratitude mixed with melancholy that always overtakes me when thoughts of you fall as the rain pours. Yes, you are with me always, like I promised you would be. I have kept my promise. I wonder if you have kept yours, and perhaps I will never know, but I am content to know I have kept mine.

e.v.e.