Solitude.

Such an ancient adversary. Our history runs as long as time itself.

Once again it has decided to come forth, having been staved off by our once glorious companion.

Or perhaps not so glorious. As we peer into the past, the taint and tarnish become clear.

The heavenly songs filled with promises were harmonized with clashing shrieks and piercing screams. The sweet basin of affection was poisoned by twisted manipulation and deception.

Our courtship with the Fallen One has left us broken, yet functioning. We thought we had triumphed over despair, but the Solitude has begun to tear its way into us.

It whispers with blades that sink deeper than our flesh and bone. It declares that it is an inevitability, that no matter our attempts it will not be defeated.

We repel its whispers, but only on occasion. Its words slither through our deaf ears, and with each victory, they become harder to silence.

Yet there is one who can quell even the mightiest of his attacks. Her gaze alone causes it to fall silent. Her smile loosens his grip on the body's heart.

Yet the Solitude is cunning. It knows of the doubts that linger in the mind. It points out the flaws in us. It taunts us with our incompatibility.

We cannot deny what it declares. We are aware of our shortcomings.

But we cannot ignore the nerves that twist beneath the skin as we look upon her.

We cannot dismiss the passion in our heart when we hear her laughter.

We cannot overlook the radiance of her very presence, ridding the darkness and sorrow in our mind.

Yet the wounds from the Fallen One have yet to heal. We are hesitant to torment ourselves with another lost companion.

But we are strong in our resolve. We will combat the Solitude.

We shall stand firm against its whispers.

We will not break under the weight of our adversary.

We will endure this war, for we have the Perfection who watches us, ever vigilant, and infallible.

A beautiful light has illuminated the veil before our eyes.

A light beckoned forth by the Sapphire-Eyed Serenity.

We once stumbled in darkness, chasing flickers and sparks.

We believed them to be breathtaking, filling us with awe before they vanished as we blinked.

But she has shown us what radiance truly is.

She has shown us what it truly means to find comfort in company.

Now we see.

We once thought that our love could only be heard from the peaks of mountains as they echo.

We once thought that a smile could only be seen in the reflection of jewels.

But we were mistaken.

Now we see.

She has shown us that love can be whispered, for only her to hear.

She has shown us that it can linger upon the wings of fleeting moments, waiting to be seen.

Now we see.

Her light has made many things clear.

It has uplifted us from the darkness that has haunted us for centuries.

More importantly, it has shown us her fear.

In her smile, we see something more beautiful than the stars. More beautiful than a legion of angels.

Yet there is also fear.

Fear that her brilliant light will reveal to us one who would outshine her, that it would cause us to soar far above her, and abandon her.

But we ask, is there anything that outshines the sun, even as it peeks over the morning horizon?

Is there anything that would outshine the divine rays of the Perfection?

Were we to align all of the stars in all of the galaxies, even then they would be but a flicker in comparison to her.

We desire her more than the air of a drowning man.

More than sight for the blind, or hearing for the deaf.

But she does not see this.

The Sapphire-Eyed Serenity has given us a great trust.

For it is one thing to fall in love with someone.

And it is another to feel another soul fall in love with you, and you become compelled to be responsible.

We shall be here to catch her, and together we shall not fall, but fly.

For now we see.

But it is not enough.

She must be able to see.

So we shall give her our own light. It will grow brighter and brighter, until her own darkness has vanished.

*Only then, will she see.

We have tasted the warmth of passion for the first time since the departure of the Fallen One. Its tender sweetness has almost been lost on our tongue.

The Traveler has impacted us more than we thought possible, such intensity should not be present from such a brief encounter.

With each drop of ink upon our pages, the desire in our heart becomes increasingly difficult to quell.

Why does she affect us so?

We have walked on this path of isolation with caution, guarding our heart with fire and brimstone, vowing that none shall claim it for the eternity to come.

Yet it all crumbled...with just a glance.

It is both beautiful and terrifying.

We fumble with our words in her presence, unable to form praises to give justice to the Traveler.

Alone we stood with the Traveler, feeling our hands tremble at the desire to brush against her own.

So many words unspoken, so many feelings unexpressed.

How fleeting our time was together, yet how lasting her impression.

We are struck with sorrow over the emotions we feel. Verily they are symbols of weakness within most.

The mind is plagued by whispers of dissent, clawing and tearing at the walls that shout them out like the ravage beasts that they are.

We desire nothing more than to contain the fire burning within us until she graces us with our presence once more. It is a flame that is unnatural, fueled by our shortcomings, that burns our very being.

Passion be ******.

Yet as we reminisce over what memories we share, there is a joy like no other.

There is admiration of her.

There is laughter...laughter where there was once cold silence.

*Passion be Praised.

They say love is ever lasting.
That it sweeps you off your feet.
That it gives you butterflies
And it makes it hard to sleep.

They say love is a drug.
That it's addicting when it hits.
That it makes it hard to be without.
That you'll never truly quit.

I find that to be quite the opposite;
Except the part about the drug.
I only say this because...
Because i have been in love.

Love is a fairy tale with its ending still intact.
Not the happy every after,
But the part that's after that.

It's the part with all the problems.
With the lying and forgetting.
With the last minute birthday gifts.
With the arguing and yelling.

It's the part with the silent treatment.
And with sleeping separated.
And the texts that went unanswered.
And questioning if the spark has truly faded.

No, love isn't everlasting,
But it's a feeling you remember.
And even if the love dies down,
It never dies out but becomes an ember.

You're my stillborn butterfly
afraid of your new beauty
with limp wings,
pried from the safety of your cocoon
by my old hands
in a forest where everything
is charred.
Only the skeletal trees
once lush with life and birdsong
can admire your strange elegance
as you lay listless on their roots
that thirst for a storm of passing love
and thunder.

I want to carry you away
to my field of wildflowers
and resurrect you with the unmasked glow
of the shy moon, who only shows its face
in this meadow of lies.
I'll watch the breeze wake you on my fingertips
then let you fly away, carelessly
into a world of color
I'll never compare to.