Can it be just love that tears our paper thin heart apart? Can’t it be sorrow, or despair of mistreatment too that shreads the delicate *****? Can’t you see that demeaning probes and hineous accusations are like fatal scabs that slowly halt the battered heart?
Must we be so inconsiderate with words and actions thinking that the heart is only for romance when Love encompasses a tantamount of relations of all spectrums. Nay, this heart of ours be it of gold if it were of a loving disposition, be it of paper of the ones disappointment by Life, be it of stone of those embittered by the harshness of Reality, it beats and feels the emotions thrown upon it.
Intolerance kills the weak minded and destroys the barely stable; it agonises the strong willed and is pitiful of those who display it.
Profanity and abuse are signs of the ones not wanting to give strength rather to ****** the flickering flame of hope that had been stubbed within them.
Patience and compassion are the signs of strength my dear do not weep upon thy transgressor but weep for your wounded heart and when you’re done seek strength by giving some in those equally damaged and you’ll see the once dimmed light of your Life shine bright once more don’t give way to hate but love unconditionally whether its a lover or a brother love heals violence does not.
For those who suffer, despair and thrive in their wounds a little encouragement though my words may not suffice I hope it may warm the saddened hearts to chin up and be brave; not everything is wrong and horrible, there is still some good left, cherish what’s around and reach out for the good that’s to come least it may pass by.