“You only know how
much anything means to you; only when its gone.” A very typical humane phrase;
we say. But do we consider? NEVER!
I have lost a life.
You have lost a heart.
He has lost a kith.
She has lost a beat.
We, all, have lost someone and probably something at some point. Do we care?
We say we do. Yet, we are no haimish. Hallowed probably. Galimatias, we are, living
in a world full of tailored and costumed outfits; accompanied by personal
masks.
Infra dig. We have turned into zombie infra digs. Ones with zero breathing
& zillion make-ups! Carmen, the gypsyish of gypsies, was once trapped for fall. Her beliefs have
fed her wants. Her needs have escorted her abilities. Her behavior has grown to
attitude.
Carmen was free enough to not bow to life but to let it surrender. No one could
have stopped her even life and its vicious plans.
Higher powers of elevate self-belief and faith have led her ego to lift body
and soul on a mission.
But Madame, Carmen died!
Correction: Victoriously died! Goalled a man, look after her goal. Dying for
such. What else would a “Free
Spirit” not do?
No matter how conclusions end-up like; pride will always have a way with
trials. In fact, that no trial; that is one goal check to not only achieve but have
had her claimed for revenge to.
That prideful soul of hers who died for a dream not only achieved; yet warrior-like
to, never cared for less. Tough heart of hers believed; only believed.
Question is: For how long will we ever NOT be “The Carmen”?
What are you waiting for?
What are you fearing?
Life and death…
Her pride lived ever after immortality.
Your pride is worth the stab. Die for it!
To my Carmen,
Long you live in that beat of mine. I shall immortal your vagrant conceit heart.
Oh, Carmen…
“You only know how
much anything means to you; only when its gone.” A very typical humane phrase;
we say. But do we consider? NEVER!
I have lost a life.
You have lost a heart.
He has lost a kith.
She has lost a beat.
We, all, have lost someone and probably something at some point. Do we care?
We say we do. Yet, we are no haimish. Hallowed probably. Galimatias, we are, living
in a world full of tailored and costumed outfits; accompanied by personal
masks.
Infra dig. We have turned into zombie infra digs. Ones with zero breathing
& zillion make-ups! Carmen, the gypsyish of gypsies, was once trapped for fall. Her beliefs have
fed her wants. Her needs have escorted her abilities. Her behavior has grown to
attitude.
Carmen was free enough to not bow to life but to let it surrender. No one could
have stopped her even life and its vicious plans.
Higher powers of elevate self-belief and faith have led her ego to lift body
and soul on a mission.
But Madame, Carmen died!
Correction: Victoriously died! Goalled a man, look after her goal. Dying for
such. What else would a “Free
Spirit” not do?
No matter how conclusions end-up like; pride will always have a way with
trials. In fact, that no trial; that is one goal check to not only achieve but have
had her claimed for revenge to.
That prideful soul of hers who died for a dream not only achieved; yet warrior-like
to, never cared for less. Tough heart of hers believed; only believed.
Question is: For how long will we ever NOT be “The Carmen”?
What are you waiting for?
What are you fearing?
Life and death…
Her pride lived ever after immortality.
Your pride is worth the stab. Die for it!
To my Carmen,
Long you live in that beat of mine. I shall immortal your vagrant conceit heart.
Oh, Carmen…
