Love. Passion. Feelings. Care. Rage. Annihilation. Love.

It is buried. Deep within me. Where is it?

Behind this emptiness, walls, detachment, indifference.

Not knowing, am I allowed to?

I cry. Reminiscing. Accepting him.

Years and years again, I accept him.

In my distance, my thoughts, my emotionless.

I crave, passion.

Only through him, there was passion.

So I search for it. I talked about him. To whom?

To my passion.

My eyes swelled, with tears. I looked in the mirror, and I see love.

Through loving, I see Love.

In trying to know Him, I chose him.

The him, the part of him that touches me.

The part of him that enlivens me.

The part of him that I know is Love.

In my isolation, from love, too I Love.

I love my emotions, from that betrayal.

Or was it my desires?

I let go.

I’m dead to my ego. Or is this still my ego?

They say go and love something first before you come to know God.

You will never know God, without loving something.

But I’m losing my feelings.

Relive me, I’m dead.

Revive me, I’m dead.

How do I love?

When I’m too dead.

To the creations.

Now I know why I don’t see God in ‘him’,

because he don’t love.

Love, is the essence of religion.

Only strong ones,



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