journey through

Fighting for love A broken heart can never fail to find its way home, not in darkness and not in light. A blind heart still sees, and a deaf one still hears. Love, it takes no count of wrong, and even when hate roars, the whisper of love still rises above the noise. When the valley is flooded with the stench of death, the soft waft of love can still be felt. Its song is poetry, even above the sound of drums of war. It is a table of fools, and of idiots smitten, blind and stupid, lost and without cause, but it is venom that all of us crave, a trap that all of us fall into. Love is a door to the unknown. And so I shall knock at thy door, and I hope that you shall open. I shall kneel at thy mat, and I hope that you shall hear my humble supplication. It is a call for war. It is a roar of idiocy, of foolish and vain bravery. Take the hammer and the nail, and crucify me to the floor. Take the whip and flog me. Chastise me with scorpions, and double my yoke, but fear I shall know not. Be fo