Skip to main content

Final Masquerade

You were deceitful as well as cunning, yet every time, we thought destiny was in our hands, the false illusion you presented captivated us and helped us masquerade our feelings to betray ourselves.

Why is it so strong?

No physical attachment has ever been so strong as not to break after so many attempts. But our bond was the strongest. I try to pull myself back from the maze but wherever I run, I come face to face with you.

My fear within drives me to explore deep into the unknown. Inside the void of your soul, where I can hear your frantic screams of despair.

But this time I smirk. Just a twitch of lips, which I’m sure will freeze your blood and your make your heart go cold. It’s not about saving, it’s about survival.
We fight wars to survive, not triumph in glory. We have always been a loner fighting for our space in the world.

Then baby why be a knight in shining armour?

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

Excerpt #12

“I wanted to tell the book thief many things, about beauty and brutality. But what could I tell her about those things that she didn't already know? I wanted to explain that I am constantly overestimating and underestimating the human race-that rarely do I ever simply estimate it. I wanted to ask her how the same thing could be so ugly and so glorious, and its words and stories so damning and brilliant.” ―  Markus Zusak,  The Book Thief

Excerpt #13

“Usually we walk around constantly believing ourselves. "I'm okay" we say. "I'm alright". But sometimes the truth arrives on you and you can't get it off. That's when you realize that sometimes it isn't even an answer--it's a question. Even now, I wonder how much of my life is convinced.” ―   Markus Zusak,  The Book Thief

Excerpt #7

"For a hundred dead stories there still remain one or two living ones. I evoke these with caution, occasionally, not too often, for fear of wearing them out, I fish one out, again I see the scenery, the characters, the attitudes. I stop suddenly: there is a flaw, I have seen a word pierce through the web of sensations. I suppose that this word will soon take the place of several images I love. I must stop quickly and think of something else; I don’t want to tire my memories. In vain; the next time I evoke them a good part will be congealed." - Jean Paul Sartre, Nausea