The Twin Flames

Fury emboldened deep within your skin

It flows through your veins

the pain

the agony of whispers that graze your ears

the burden to climb higher, learn more, be better 

It screams at you. It wails its misery and tear-ridden howls

it is... loud... loud... loud... 

It encompasses all you can hear, takes control of all you can feel

overwhelming penetrating your skin, your veins, piercing through your ears.

It is calm.

The flowering trees of spring display the turn of tides

The vastness of the sea, unmoving at this distance. 

The sounds of a blade sharpening wisps in the background with Pas de deux : Tchaikovsky.

The sand so minute that it no longer retains what it once was

A form that was full of imperfections, crashing into the depths of the sea

The sea knows no mercy, no forgiveness

All it knows is to take

It seeps into the layers and bides its time into cracking

Until the rocks, you, are no longer what you were

The music in the background crescendos. It is reminiscent of what the madness you felt.

All you know now is emptiness.

The birds cry and peck at your unknowing figure

The glass master comes and inspects through the grains of sand trying to figure out what mess you are now. 

All you are now is the desperateness of the piccolo, your desperateness. 

You are the same as a bird with an injured wing trying its best to reclaim its lost place. 

You are a pretty bird, collapsed on the floor, meters below where you need to be

You do not know the warmth of love

the taste of victory