It is an association I have disassociated myself from. A love that is no longer lovable. But it is a connection quite unbreakable, a bond that cannot be treacherous by the actions of commitment. This rage, undesirable, cannot speak from secrecy of true love. Instead there are thoughts pondering, yielding to actions of vengeance that cannot be foretold. Has it been shattered, or perhaps reached a different momentum, one hidden in the shadows of our endeavors of amour. To seek unprecedented answers in the comatose idealism is quite feckless. The game is ruined, but the life is vibrant. The horizons have yet to be obsolete, thus they shine brighter than the second before.
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