It could make a crazy man seem normal while turning a sane man into a rabid animal. Who decides these things that entrap our souls for everyone to see, like jars of organs at a museum. Life stinks like formaldehyde roses and love feels like that rose dragging its razor tipped thorns across the skin.
Why does love have to be a double edged sword. To cut through the worst possible problems only for it to ricochet off a boulder of doubt and decapitate the one fighting the hardest. The plated armor has been pierced, shattered and fire has burned the flesh under which it protects. Everything lost.
But then the sun shines through the fog and smoke and rises the dead heart of a broken man like a phoenix from the ashes. New life being breathed back into the lifeless body. Who's to say what this force maybe. The only thing that is known is that shattered vessel of blood has been replaced with something more powerful than originally equipped.
Now it is time to leave the blood on the floor from sleeve of the man who's heart was he holding and let the fire of hope guide him past his trepidations. As he continues, the path will get harder but its the fire that consumes him that will burn down every obstacle. This is what makes a man who he is.
Life is a funny thing sometimes...
We take heed of what makes us seem sagacious, but to live and love is to be completely insane.
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